•    c        - 


PF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY 


THE   LAND    OF 
JOY 

By 

RALPH  HENRY  BARBOUR 


Youth,  with  swift  feet,  walks  onward  in  the  way; 
The  land  of  joy  lies  all  before  his  eyes — Butler. 


NEW    YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1903 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
Curtis  Publishing  Company 

Copyright,  1903,  by 
Doubleday,  Page  &  Company 

Published  May,  1903 


jfot  80s  mite 


2125915 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I 3 

CHAPTER  II.........18 

CHAPTER  III    .........  33 

CHAPTER  IV 49 

CHAPTER  V .66 

CHAPTER  VI 86 

CHAPTER  VII I03 

CHAPTER  VIII "4 

CHAPTER  IX    . I3I 

CHAPTER  X J49 

CHAPTER  XI 163 

CHAPTER  XII i85 

CHAPTER  XIII i98 

CHAPTER  XIV 216 

CHAPTER  XV 235 

CHAPTER  XVI 247 

CHAPTER  XVII                 263 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  XVIII 2g0 

CHAPTER  XIX  .....  300 

CHAPTER  XX  .....                  .         .  315 

CHAPTER  XXI  ...                           ...  332 

CHAPTER  XXII  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  351 

CHAPTER  XXIII 367 

CHAPTER  XXIV 376 

CHAPTER  XXV 396 

CHAPTER  XXVI 408 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY 

CHAPTER  I 

JOHN  NORTH  unlocked  the  door  and  threw 
it  open.  The  study  was  in  semi-darkness 
and  filled  with  the  accumulated  heat  and  fust 
of  the  summer.  Ghostlike  objects  took  shape 
before  him  and  resolved  themselves  into  chairs  and 
couches  and  tables  draped  with  sheets  or,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  low  book-shelves,  hidden  beneath 
yellowing  folds  of  newspapers.  The  windows  were 
closed  and  the  shades  drawn.  At  the  side  casements 
the  afternoon  sunlight  made  hot,  buff  oblongs  on 
the  curtains. 

He  crossed  the  room  impatiently,  overturning 
on  the  way  a  waste-basket  and  sending  its  contents 
— old  books,  battered  golf -balls,  brass  curtain-rings, 
a  broken  meerschaum  pipe,  crumbled  letters  and 
invitations  dating  back  to  class  day — rolling  over 
the  rug  and  beneath  the  big  table.  With  mutterings 
of  disgust  he  sent  the  front  windows  crashing 
upward,  letting  in  a  rush  of  fresher  air,  moist  from 

3 


4  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

the  newly  sprinkled  pavement  below.  At  the  side 
casements,  however,  he  drew  down  the  shades 
again,  for  Dunster  Street  was  as  full  of  heat  and 
glare  as  an  Arizona  canon. 

Laying  aside  coat  and  vest,  he  stretched  his  arms 
luxuriously,  and,  thrusting  big,  brown  hands  into 
trousers  pockets,  looked  disconsolately  from  a 
window.  Cambridge  was  sweltering.  Although  it 
was  late  September  summer  had  returned  in  the 
night,  unexpected  and  unwelcome,  and  had  wrapped 
the  city  in  a  smothering  blanket  of  heat  and  humid- 
ity. The  square  was  a  broad  desert  of  arid,  shim- 
mering, sun-smitten  pavement  that  radiated  heat 
like  the  bed-plate  of  a  furnace.  The  trees  across 
the  way  looked  wilted,  dusty  and  discouraged. 
The  Yard,  which  he  could  glimpse  here  and  there 
around  the  corners  of  the  buildings,  appeared  cool 
and  inviting,  but  instead  of  bringing  comfort,  only 
increased  his  longing  for  the  breezy  Adirondack 
lake  which  he  had  left  the  day  before.  The  cum- 
bersome crimson  cars  buzzed  to  and  fro  with  much 
clanging  of  bell  and  gong,  interspersed  with  impa- 
tient shrillings  from  the  whistle  of  the  starter  in 
front  of  the  waiting  station.  From  the  outbound 
cars  men  with  suit  cases  slid  dejectedly  to  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  5 

pavement  and  wandered  away  toward  all  points  of 
the  compass,  seeking  their  rooms.  College  would 
begin  again  on  the  morrow. 

John's  thoughts  went  back  to  the  day  three  years 
before  when  from  this  very  window  he  had  watched, 
as  he  was  watching  now,  the  scene  beneath.  Then 
he  had  been  filled  with  the  keenest  interest,  even 
excitement;  had  been  impatient  for  the  morrow 
and  the  real  commencement  of  his  college  life. 
His  mind  had  been  charged  with  thoughts  of  the 
great  things  he  was  going  to  do.  Well,  that  had  been 
three  years  ago,  he  reflected;  to-day  his  thoughts 
were  somewhat  soberer.  In  the  three  years  he 
had  seen  many  illusions  fade  and  had  stored  by  a 
certain  amount  of  practical  common  sense.  As 
for  the  great  things,  some  few  of  them  had  come 
to  pass;  unfortunately,  seen  in  retrospect  they 
were  shrunken  out  of  all  similitude  to  the  glorious 
subjects  of  his  early  dreams. 

It  must  not  be  thought,  however,  that  disillusion- 
ment had  soured  him.  At  twenty-four,  given  a 
sane  mind  and  a  healthy  body,  one  can  bear  with 
equanimity  more  disenchantment  than  had  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  John  North.  And  John,  being  the 
possessor  of  twenty-four  years,  sanity  and  health, 


6  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

dismissed  memories  of  the  olden  visions  with  a 
sigh,  shrugged  his  very  broad  shoulders  and  looked 
about  for  a  pipe. 

It  was  necessary  to  uncover  most  of  the  furniture 
before  the  pipe  was  found.  And  then  he  remem- 
bered that  his  tobacco  pouch  was  in  his  kit-bag, 
that  his  kit-bag  was  outside  the  door,  and  that  the 
door  was  twenty  feet  away.  So  after  a  moment 
of  hesitation  he  stuck  the  empty  pipe  between  his 
teeth  and  returned  to  his  contemplation  of  the 
world  outside. 

"  I  wish  Davy  would  come, "  he  muttered. 

A  tall  youth  in  a  torn  straw  hat  encircled  by 
a  faded  orange-and-black  ribbon  came  out  of  the 
hardware  store  beneath  and  started  hurriedly 
across  the  square.  John  leaned  out  over  the  sill. 

"  Ay-y-y-y,  Larry  !"  he  called. 

The  other  turned  and  retraced  his  steps. 

"Hello,  Johnnie!     When'd  you  get  back?" 

"  Half -hour  ago.     Come  up. " 

"Can't."  Laurence  Baker  removed  the  straw 
hat  and,  holding  it  by  its  broken  rim,  fanned  his 
perspiring  face.  "I'm  frightfully  busy.  My  kid 
brother's  come  up  from  Exeter  and  I'm  helping  him 
fix  his  room;  he's  got  a  joint  in  Thayer.  I've  been 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  7 

running  errands  for  the  little  brute  all  day.  It's 
carpet  tacks  this  time,  and  a  roll  of  picture  wire." 
He  held  up  his  purchases  wearily  for  the  other's 
inspection.  John  grinned. 

"Poor  old  Larry!'*  he  said,  sympathetically. 
"  You'Jl  have  to  settle  down  now  and  behave  your- 
self; younger  brothers,  especially  Freshies,  are  the 
very  deuce  for  looking  after  you." 

"You  talk  as  though  you  had  slathers  of  'em," 
retorted  Larry. 

"  No,  thank  heaven,  I'm  no  one's  guardian.  But 
I  know  what's  in  store  for  you,  poor  devil !  By  the 
way,  I've  got  a  couple  of  seats  for  the  Hollis  Street 
to-night;  will  you?" 

Larry  shook  his  head  disconsolately. 

"Wish  I  could,  but — er— I  promised  Chester  I'd 
take  him  to  call  on  some  folks  in  town."  John 
grinned  again. 

"Well,  don't  let  me  interfere  with  your  duties, 
Larry, "  he  said,  shaking  his  head  gravely. 

"  Shut  up  !     Has  Davy  got  back  ? " 

"No;  the  beggar  wrote  me  that  he  was  coming 
to-day,  but  he  hasn't  shown  up.  I  daresay  he's 
fallen  asleep  and  gone  on  to  Watertown  or  Waverly, 
or  some  other  of  those  places  you  read  about." 


8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  Wouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised, "  laughed  the  other. 
"  When's  the  table  going  to  start  ?" 

"Oh,  Monday,  I  guess.  I'm  going  around  there 
for  dinner  to-night.  Coming?" 

"  Don't  think  so.  We'll  probably  eat  in  town. 
Can't  you  come  along?" 

"  Maybe ;  if  Davy  doesn't  show  up  meanwhile. " 

"All  right;  meet  us  at  the  Touraine  at  seven.  If 
you're  not  there  by  a  quarter  after — 

"  Don't  wait.  It'll  mean  that  Davy  has  woke  up 
in  time  to  get  back  here.  So  long,  Larry. " 

The  other  waved  the  package  in  his  hand,  replaced 
his  hat  and  hurried  across  the  street,  finally  disap- 
pearing around  the  corner  of  Gray's.  John  looked 
after  him  with  a  broad  smile. 

"  Fancy  Larry  in  the  role  of  mentor  to  the  young  ! 
Well " 

He  stretched  his  arms  over  his  head  again,  turned 
and  surveyed  the  room.  Recollecting  his  bag,  he 
went  to  the  door  for  it  and  returning  caught  sight 
cf  several  letters  on  the  floor.  He  gathered  them 
up  and  went  back  to  the  window.  Two  of  them 
proved  to  be  circulars,  one  was  a  bill,  a  third  was 
a  note  from  the  head  football  coach  asking  John  to 
call  on  him,  and  the  fourth  bore  the  inscription, 


THE   LAND   OP  JOY  9 

"Return  after  five  days  to  Corliss  &  Groom, 
Washington,  D.  C." 

John's     face    betrayed  curiosity   as    he   opened 

this.     Leaning   against   the    casement    he   read   it 

through.     Curiosity   gave   place   to   surprise,    sur- 

-  prise  to  alarm,  alarm  to  consternation.     He  sucked 

hard  at  the  empty  pipe,   stared  blankly  into  the 

« 

street  and  reread  the  letter.  The  writer  was  an 
old  friend  of  his  father  and,  to  a  lesser  degree,  of 
himself;  a  Harvard  graduate  of  some  twenty  years 
ago,  and  now  a  successful  lawyer  in  Washington. 
The  portions  of  the  letter  responsible  for  John's 
changes  of  expression  were  these : 

"  ...  And  so  I  felt  certain  that  in  promis- 
ing your  services  to  the  extent  indicated  I  was  not 
overstepping  the  bounds  of  friendship.  The  family 
were  deeply  grateful;  in  fact,  I  am  not  sure  that 
at  the  last  Mrs.  Ryerson  would  have  consented  to 
allow  Phillip  to  go  to  Cambridge  had  it  not  been  for 
the  promise  I  made  in  your  behalf.  Do  not  imagine 
that  the  boy  is  deficient  in  sense;  but,  naturally 
enough,  his  mother  hated  to  have  him  leave  her  for 
so  long  just  at  present.  The  father  died  in  January 
last.  Phillip  has  always  manifested  ability  to  get 
his  share  of  things;  he  does  not,  I  think,  err  on  the 


IO 

side  of  timidity ;  in  fact,  such  slight  troubles  as  have 
molested  him  thus  far  have  been  due  to  a  certain 
inherited  love  of  daring.  His  father,  my  lifelong 
friend,  was  the  embodiment  of  honour  and  fearless- 
ness; but  his  courage,  unfortunately,  was  of  the 
reckless  sort,  and  was,  indirectly  at  least,  accounta- 
ble for  his  death.  The  quarrel,  as  I  have  said,  was 
of  a  most  trifling  nature  and  should  never  have 
become  subject  for  a  duel.  But  Phillip — the 
present  Phil's  father,  you  understand — was  but 
thirty  at  the  time  and  as  finicky  of  his  honour  as 
a  Crusader.  The  wound  which  he  received  never 
entirely  healed  and  last  winter  brought  on  the 
illness  which  caused  his  death. 

"  ...  But  I  will  write  no  more  of  the  boy's 
character.  Were  you  a  Virginian  I  should  simply 
say  'He  is  a  Loudoun  County  Ryerson,'  and  you 
would  understand.  However,  you  will  see  for 
yourself,  for  I  am  accepting  it  as  settled  that  you 
will  look  him  up  and  be  of  such  service  as  you  can 
if  only  for  our  friendship's  sake.  I  fear  the  boy 
will  have  rather  a  hard  row  to  hoe  at  first.  He  has 
always  had  everything  in  reason  that  he  has  desired, 
though  I  believe  his  demands  have  never  been 
exorbitant.  It  was  a  surprise  to  the  family  when 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  n 

the  condition  of  affairs  was  revealed  after  Phillip's 
death.  I,  however,  who  was  in  his  confidence, 
knew  all  along  how  things  were  going.  He  was 
never  overfond  of  the  humdrum,  stay-at-home  life 
of  the  planter,  and  the  mystery  is  how  he  managed 
to  keep  possession  of  his  property  as  long  as  he  did. 
Elaine  is  a  fine  place  of  some  sixteen  hundred 
acres,  and  .there  is  no  doubt  but  that  after  the 
bulk  of  it  is  disposed  of  the  family  will  be  in  very 
comfortable  circumstances. 

"Mrs.  Ryerson  has  been  in  poor  health  for  many 
years,  and  she  is  rnaturally  avese  to  selling  any  of 
the  estate  while  she  lives.  Margaret,  however,  who 
possesses  far  more  practicality  than  a  Ryerson  has 
any  right  to,  has  taken  the  conduct  of  affairs  into 
her  own  hands,  and  I  have  instructions  to  sell  Elaine 
at  the  first  opportunity.  The  residence  and  home 
farm — about  one  hundred  acres  in  all — are  exempted. 
The  fact  that  the  place  is  to  be  disposed  of  is  being 
kept  from  Phil,  so  you  had  best  not  mention  it.  He 
has  been  told  only  enough  of  the  true  state  of  affairs 
to  prevent  him  from  running  into  extravagances. 
It  is  the  desire  of  his  mother  and  sister  that  he  shall 
not  be  hampered  by  monetary  troubles  more  than 
absolutely  necessary.  .  .  . 


12  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

'*  ...  I  have  written  at  greater  length  than 
was  perhaps  necessary.  But  I  want  you  to  take 
an  interest  in  the  boy.  I  have  a  feeling  that  you 
will  be  of  great  service  to  him.  I  imagine  that 
college  life  is  much  what  it  was  twenty  years  ago, 
and  my  own  experience  tells  me  that  the  friendship 
of  an  older  and  more  thoughtful  man  is  of  immense 
value  to  a  freshman ..... 

"...  Phillip  is  careless,  perhaps  high-spirited, 
and  after  the  free  and  unconstrained  life  he  has  led 
at  home,  college  life  will,  I  fear,  seem  narrow  and 
irksome.  Every  youngster  must  have  his  fling, 
but  there  are  different  ways  of  flinging.  And  it's 
there  that  you  can  be  of  use  to  Phil  and  make  me 
your  debtor.  He's  a  good  deal  like  a  two-year-old 
turned  out  to  pasture  where  the  fences  aren't  strong ; 
it's  dollars  to  dimes  he'll  try  to  break  through 
into  the  next  field.  But  a  mild  hand  on  the  halter 
now  and  then  may  save  him  a  broken  shank  or  a 
bad  wire-cut.  And,  by  the  way,  John,  if  he  should 
get  damaged  over  the  fences  I'm  the  one  to  inform, 
not  the  family. 

"I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  your  father's  health 
remains  poor.  I  had  a  letter  from  him  in  July,  I 
think,  written  at  Guernsey.  I  had  hoped  that  his 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  13 

travels  would  benefit  him.  It  must  be  very  hard 
on  your  mother.  My  kindest  regards  to  both 
when  next  you  write.  Pray  remember  that  the 
latchstring  is  always  outside  when  you  get  within 
striking  distance  of  Washington.  My  wife  asks  to 
be  remembered  to  you,  and  says  that  the  south 
room,  with  the  view  that  you  liked  so  much,  is 
still  vacant  and  always  at  your  service.  Let  me 
hear  from  you  in  answer  to  this  tiresome  letter,  and 
meanwhile  accept  my  thanks  for  what  I  have 
pledged  you  to  do. 

"Gratefully  yours, 

"GEORGE  HERMAN  CORLISS." 

After  the  second  reading  John  let  fall  the  letter 
and  stared  perplexedly  out  across  the  square. 
Gradually  a  smile  crept  over  his  face,  and  finally 
he  chuckled  ruefully. 

"Great  Scott !"  he  muttered.  "And  I  was  horse- 
ing  Larry  about  his  kid  brother !  Why,  hang  it, 
his  job  is  a  sinecure  compared  with  mine.  If  a 
brother  doesn't  behave  himself  all  you  have  to  do 
is  to  break  his  silly  little  head.  But  here  am  I 
saddled  with  the  responsibility  of  an  absolute 
stranger,  a  chap  whose  name  I  never  even  heard 
until  to-day !  I  can't  punch  his  nose  if  he  misbe- 


i4  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

haves;  he  would  probably  resent  it,  coming  from 
an  entire  stranger ;  all  I  can  do  is  to  politely  request 
him  to  be  good.  And  meanwhile  his  family  and 
Corliss  will  be  quite  satisfied  that  the  precious 
youth  is  being  gently  but  firmly  conducted  along 
the  path  of  virtue  and  sobriety  and  won't  give  a 
thought  to  the  difficulties  of  the  situation. 

"And  if — what's  the  young  idiot's  name?  —  if 
Phillip  should  blow  up  Massachusetts  with  a  cannon- 
cracker  some  dark  night,  or  assault  a  proctor, 
my  reputation's  blasted.  I  shall  lose  my  position 
and  be  held  up  to  disgrace  forevermore.  I'm  not 
certain  that  the  Virginia  legislature  wouldn't  pass 
a  law  making  the  mention  of  my  name  a  misde- 
meanor. And  Corliss  would  tell  Mrs.  Corliss  that 
he  was  disappointed  in  me — confound  his  cheek ! 
And  Margaret — I  wonder,  now,  what  Margaret's 
like?  Corliss  says  she's  practical.  That's  not 
promising.  Nothing  is  more  irritating  than  a 
practical  woman.  But  maybe  she  isn't.  Anyhow, 
I'd  be  sorry  to  displease  Margaret.  And  so  I 
suppose  I'll  have  to  take  over  the  commission." 

He  crossed  the  room  to  his  bag  and  filled  his  pipe 
from  a  leather  pouch.  When  it  was  drawing  well 
he  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  window  and  settled  him- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  15 

self  in  it,  his  heels  on  the  sill.  The  tobacco  brought 
comfort. 

"I  wish  Davy  was  here.  He's  the  finest  person 
to  consult  when  you're  in  difficulties  that  I  know. 
He  simply  smiles  in  his  fatuous  way  or  else  scowls 
weirdly  under  the  impression  that  he's  looking 
wise,  and  goes  to  sleep.  And  you've  unburdened 
your  mind  and  haven't  reburdened  it  with  a  lot 
of  advice  that  you  wouldn't  think  of  following. 
And  the  present  quandary  will  tickle  Davy  into  a 
month's  slumber !  Well,  let's  face  it.  Am  I  or 
am  I  not  to  become  the  guardian  angel  of  Mr. 
Phillip  Scott  Ryerson,  of  Elaine,  Melville  Court 
House,  County  of  Loudoun,  State  of  Virginia?" 
He  tossed  the  letter  from  him.  "Why,  confound 
it,  I  haven't  any  choice !  Corliss  pledges  me  first 
and  asks  my  consent  afterward !  'We  have  apple 
pie ;  what  kind  of  pie'll  you  have  ?'  Heaven  protect 
us  from  the  claims  of  friendship  !" 

"But  old  George  must  be  pretty  well  worked  up 
over  the  matter  to  write  all  that  rot.  You'd  think 
it  was  his  own  son  he  is  begging  me  to  care  for ! 
And  of  course  I've  got  to  do  it.  He  knew  I  would. 
He's  a  good  old  idiot,  is  Grovel,  and  I  suppose  if 
he'd  asked  me  to  wheel  little  Phillip  up  and  down 


1 6  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  avenue  every  day  in  a  perambulator  I'd  have 
wired  him  back  'Whatever  you  say,'  and  done  it." 

"Seriously,  though,  my  boy,  it's  no  light  job 
they've  got  you  into.  From  what  Corliss  says— 
or,  rather,  from  what  he  doesn't  say — it  is  pretty 
evident  that  little  Phillip  is  a  holy  terror.  He  is 
undoubtedly  thoroughly  spoiled,  and  comes  here 
with  the  sole  intention  of,  as  Corliss  so  delicately 
puts  it,  breaking  through  into  the  next  field.  Old 
George  is  getting  frightfully  horsey,  by  the  way ! 
And  I  am  to  follow  him  about,  smiling  fatuously 
like  an  indulgent  parent,  murmuring  'Now  don't  do 
that,  Phillip  !'  or  'No,  no,  dear;  mind  Uncle  John  !' ' 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  found  it  was  nearly 
four  o'clock.  With  a  sudden  determination  to  hunt 
up  his  charge  and  learn  the  worst  at  once,  he  drew 
himself  regretfully  from  the  chair  and  rescued  the 
letter  from  the  floor.  Donning  his  jacket,  he 
slipped  letter  and  tobacco  pouch  into  his  pocket, 

"I'll  get  this  dive  fixed  up  and  dusted  before 
dinner  if  I  can  find  any  one  about,"  he  murmured. 
"It  looks  like  a  morgue." 

The  sound  of  heavy  footsteps  in  the  corridor 
brought  a  grin  to  his  face.  Rushing  to  the  door, 
he  threw  himself  violently  into  the  arms  of  a  large 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  17 

and  perspiring  man.     A  suit  case  crashed  to  the 
floor. 

"Oh,  Davy!"  he  sobbed,  "I'm  so  glad  you've 
come!  I've  wanted  you  so,  Davy,  I've  wanted 
you  so !  Hold  me  tighter,  Davy ;  they've  gone 
and  made  me  a  foster-mother !" 


CHAPTER  II 

DAVID  MEADOWCAMP  removed  John's  clinging 
embrace,  placed  his  suit  case  on  the  couch  and  sat 
down  beside  it,  smiling  jovially  the  while. 

"Eh?"  he  said. 

He  was  a  massive,  large -boned,  broad-faced 
man,  two  years  John's  senior.  Outwardly  he  was 
good-natured,  sleepy,  awkward,  with  a  shock  of 
jet  black  hair  that  was  forever  falling  over  his 
forehead  and  giving  him  the  unkempt  look  of  one 
just  out  of  bed,  an  appearance  aided  by  his  manner 
of  attire.  Good-natured  he  was,  and  sleepy;  his 
capacity  for  slumber  seemed  almost  abnormal; 
his  awkwardness  was  more  apparent  than  real, 
for  he  had  been  a  star  left  tackle  on  the  'Varsity 
football  team  during  his  last  two  years  in  college. 
Persons  who  judged  him  by  his  looks  were  usually 
mistaken  in  their  estimate  of  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  his  brains.  Despite  his  likeness  to  a 
good-humoured  dullard,  he  possessed  an  assimilative 
ability  that  was  phenomenal,  and  had  secured  his 

18 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  19 

degree  in  three  years.  He  was  now  taking  a  post- 
graduate course.  John  declared  it  was  because  he 
was  too  lazy  to  pack  his  trunk  and  go  home.  It  was 
generally  understood  that  he  was  preparing  himself 
to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  his  father,  who  was  the 
president  of  a  New  York  bank,  and  who,  so  rumour 
had  it,  was  unable  to  count  his  millions  without 
the  aid  of  all  his  fingers  and  toes.  David  and  John 
had  been  roommates  from  their  freshman  year,  and 
in  all  that  time  had  never  had  but  one  real  quarrel ; 
and  even  that,  as  John  had  pointed  out  aggrievedly 
after  it  was  over,  had  been  too  one-sided  to  be 
interesting.  For  David  had  drowsed  through  most 
of  it  and  had  only  consented  to  display  real  concern 
when  John,  goaded  to  madness  by  the  other's 
indifference,  had  thrown  a  pair  of  military  brushes 
at  him.  Thereupon  David  had  arisen  in  his  might 
and,  depositing  the  struggling  opponent  on  the 
bedroom  floor,  had  drawn  the  mattress  over  him 
and  gone  to  sleep  on  top. 

David  removed  his  clothing  by  easy  stages 
while  John  told  his  troubles.  His  grin  grew 
and  broadened  as  the  tale  progressed.  At  the 
end  he  dropped  the  last  of  his  attire,  stretched 
his  six  feet  of  nakedness  and  disappeared  into 


20  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  bathroom.  John  howled  and  beat  upon  the 
door. 

"Come  out,  you  hard-hearted  brute !  Come  out 
and  I'll— I'll  lick  you  !" 

There  was  no  sound  from  beyond  the  locked 
portal  but  the  rushing  of  water  from  the  taps. 

"Coward !"  taunted  John. 

"Worm!" 

"White-livered  coyote !" 

The  taps  were  turned  off  and  there  followed  an 
awesome  splash.  Then  it  rained  water  for  a  moment 
beyond  the  door;  afterward  theie  was  a  steady 
churning  sound  as  from  the  wheel  of  a  Sound  steamer. 
John  tried  cajollery. 

"Davy  !      Dear  Davy  !     Booful  Davy  !" 

"Go  'way,"  yelled  the  bather. 

"Please  don't  be  angry,  Davy !  Tell  me,  Davy, 
what  shall  I  do?" 

"Go  see  him." 

"Oh     .     .     .     would  you?" 

"Yep." 

"Will  you  come  along?" 

There  was  a  snort  of  derision  from  the  bathroom. 

"You  might,  you  know,  Davy." 

"Never!" 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  21 

"But  your  presence  would  be  so — so  soothing 
and  soporific,  Davy  !  Won't  you?" 

"No." 

"All  right  then,  don't,  you  big  selfish  brute!" 
He  moved  away  from  the  door  and  his  eyes  fell  on 
David's  clothing  scattered  generously  over  the 
study.  Picking  up  the  coat  he  abstracted  a  bill-roll 
from  a  pocket  and  helped  himself  to  a  five-dollar 
note.  Then  he  hid  the  coat  under  the  couch  and 
went  back  to  the  bathroom  door. 

"Little  Phillip  may  act  naughty,  Davy,  and  so 
I've  borrowed  a  fiver  from  you  to  buy  him  candy." 

"Better  get  him  a  bottle,"  gurgled  David. 

"Farewell,  Davy.  I'll  see  you  later.  I've  got 
tickets  for  the  Hollis.  So  don't  run  away." 

On  the  street  John  found  that  the  unseasonable 
heat  had  moderated  somewhat.  As  he  turned  into 
Boylston  Street  a  faint  breeze,  redolent  of  the 
marshes,  blew  into  his  face  and  caused  him  to  tilt 
his  hat  away  from  his  sunburned  forehead.  In 
front  of  the  post-office  he  was  hailed  by  an  acquaint- 
ance, one  Broom,  a  member  of  the  Eleven. 

"I  hear  you're  going  to  help  coach  this  fall, 
North?" 

"First  I've  heard  of  it,"  answered  John.    "Though 


22  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

I  found  a  note  in  my  mail  that  rather  bears  out 
your  statement,  Pete.  But  I  don't  know  whether 
I'll  have  time  for  it." 

"Rot,   my  boy,   rot!     It   doesn't  require  time; 
any  old  fool  can  coach  a  football  team." 

"On  the  principle  that  it  takes  a  fool  to  teach  a 
fool,  eh?" 

"Sure.  Where  are  you  going?  Come  on  'round 
to  the  drug  store  and  drink  cooling  draughts." 

John  groaned  and  shook  his  head. 

"Can't,  Pete.     I'm  a  foster-mother." 

"Kwhat?" 

"Foster-mother.     Good-by !" 

"You're  an  idiot,  you  mean.  Come  around  to 
the  hovel  soon." 

"All  right." 

John  brought  forth  the  fateful  letter  and  made 
sure  of  the  address  he  was  seeking.  At  least,  he 
thought,  it  had  the  merit  of  accessibility,  for  it  was 
just  around  the  corner.  It  proved  to  be  an  old- 
fashioned  residence,  two  stories  and  a  half  in  height, 
with  a  porch  running  across  the  front.  It  was 
painted  a  peculiarly  depressing  shade  of  gray,  but 
for  all  that,  and  despite  the  fact  that  the  front  door 
opened  almost  from  the  sidewalk,  it  was  homelike 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  23 

and  even  attractive ;  and  was  plainly  a  house  with 
a  history.  Its  dignity  was  somewhat  marred  by 
two  placards  in  the  front  windows  advertising 
"Student  Rooms  to  Let"  and  "Table  Board." 
It  faced  a  little  square  of  comforting  trees,  grass 
and  shrubbery,  and  from  the  porch  a  bit  of  the 
river  could  be  seen.  An  express  wagon  piled  high 
with  trunks  stood  at  the  curb.  John  ascended  the 
steps  and  rang  the  bell.  The  front  door  was  broad 
and  substantial  and  was  flanked  by  sidelights, 
while  a  dusty  fanlight  above  hinted  at  the  splendour 
of  olden  days. 

"I  wonder,"  mused  John,  "just  which  Revolu- 
tionary general  made  his  headquarters  here.  I 
don't  see  any  tablet ;  very  careless  of  the  Historical 
Society." 

The  maid  who  answered  his  ring  thought  that 
Mr.  Ryerson  was  in  because  she  had  sent  an  express- 
man up  with  a  trunk  a  few  minutes  before.  The 
room,  she  directed,  was  the  second-story-front  on 
the  left.  John  thanked  her  and  started  up  the 
narrow  staircase  with  its  queer  slim  mahogany 
hand-rail.  Half-way  up  he  became  aware  of  quick, 
heavy  tramping  from  the  direction  of  the  room  he 
was  seeking.  He  paused  and  listened.  Bang — 


24  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

bang!  Tramp — tramp!  Thud — thud!  Wonderingly 
he  went  on,  turned  and  approached  the  door. 
From  beyond  came  the  unmistakable  scuffling  and 
tramping  of  bodies,  the  panting  of  persons  apparently 
engaged  in  severe  physical  exertion,  and  through 
it  all  the  plaintive  whining  of  a  dog.  Suddenly 
a  chair  crashed  to  the  floor.  The  noise  ceased. 

"Had  enough?"  asked  a  high,  boyish  voice. 

"No  !     You?"  answered  a  deeper  one. 

"Come  on  then !" 

The  noise  began  again,  while  the  dog,  apparently 
in  a  bedroom  or  closet  beyond,  set  up  a  dismal 
howl.  John  knocked  loudly. 

"Keep  out!"  called  a  shrill  voice  somewhat 
breathlessly. 

"Is  Mr.  Ryerson  in?" 

"No."  Then,  in  lower  tones:  "Ah,  would  you! 
Take  that !" 

"He  is  in,"  reflected  John,  "and  he's  having  a 
boxing  bout  with  some  one  and  doesn't  want  to  be 
disturbed.  But,  the  Lord  knows,  if  I  don't  see 
him.  this  time  I'll  never  have  the  courage  to  try 

again.  And  so "  He  tried  the  door.  It  was 

unlocked  and  he  pushed  it  open  and  entered.  Then 
he  stood  stock  still  and  stared  in  surprise. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  25 

In  the  middle  of  the  room,  a  large,  oblong  apart- 
ment traversed  overhead  by  beams  painted  the 
same  hue  as  the  outside  of  the  house,  and  lighted 
by  three  large  windows  in  deep  embrasures,  stood 
two  persons.  Each  had  discarded  coat  and  vest, 
but  was,  nevertheless,  bathed  in  perspiration.  One 
whose  Irish  features  and  soiled  appearance  pro- 
claimed him  the  expressman,  presented  a  sadly 
disfigured  countenance.  He  was  breathing  with 
difficulty  and  from  his  nose  crimson  drops  spattered 
onto  the  bosom  of  his  dirty  checked  shirt.  One 
eye  was  puffed  and  a  short  gash  over  the  cheek 
bone  bled  freely.  These  disfigurations,  with  an 
ugly  scowl,  rendered  him  extremely  unattractive. 
John's  gaze  swept  past  him  to  the  person  beyond. 

A  tall,  rather  slim  youth  of  nineteen  confronted 
him.  His  eyes,  which  at  the  moment  were  wide 
open  with  surprise  and  annoyance,  and  his  hair, 
worn  somewhat  long  about  the  ears  and  at  the  back 
of  the  neck,  were  darkly  brown.  His  face  was  oval, 
lean,  with  cheek  bones  well  in  sight ;  the  complexion 
was  rather  sallow,  but  now  the  cheeks  were  disked 
with  red.  The  nose  was  straight,  the  mouth  full- 
lipped,  the  general  expression  of  the  face  fearless, 
ardent  and  a  trifle  arrogant.  The  carriage  was 


26  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

erect  and  easy  and  the  width  of  hip  and  thigh  told 
of  long  acquaintance  with  the  saddle.  So  far  he 
appeared  to  have  escaped  punishment. 

"That,"  quoth  John  to  himself,  "is  little  Phil." 

"Well,  sir?"  The  slim  youth  dropped  his  hands 
from  their  belligerent  attitude  and  faced  John, 
issuing  the  challenge  with  ill-ccncealed  annoyance. 

"You're  Mr.  Phillip  Ryerson,  I  fancy?"  said 
John. 

"Yes,  sir;  what  then?" 

"Why,  I  must  apologize  for  interrupting  you. 
My  name — 

"I  reckon  you're  a  proctor,"  interrupted  the 
other  brusquely.  "I'm  very  busy  just  at  present, 
and  so,  if  there's  anything  more  I  can  do  for  you, 
please  tell  me.  If  not—  He  glanced  toward  the 

door.  The  expressman  shuffled  uneasily  and  looked 
tentatively  at  his  coat  and  vest.  John  sank  onto 
a  trunk  and  allowed  an  appreciative  smile  to  creep 
into  his  face.  Really,  little  Phillip  wasn't  so  bad  ! 
"I'm  glad  he  doesn't  mistake  me  for  the  Dean," 
he  thought,  "or  he  would  be  throwing  me  out  the 
window ! 

"Why,  there  is  something  more  you  can  do  for 
me,"  he  said  aloud,  "but  it  can  wait.  Pray  don't 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  27 

let  my  presence  interfere  with  the  meeting;  I  have 
always  taken  great  interest  in  the  manly  art.  Per- 
haps I  can  hold  the  watch  for  you  ?" 

The  slim  youth's  eyes  sparkled  dangerously  and 
the  crimson  disks  spread. 

"Perhaps  you  would  care  to  take  the  place  of 
this — ah — gentleman,  sir?"  he  asked  with  elaborate 
courtesy.  John  applauded  silently.  But, 

"No,"  he  said,  with  a  regretful  shake  of  his  head, 
"unfortunately  I  can't  accept  your  kind  invitation. 
Some  other  time,  perhaps." 

"But  if  I  insist  that  you  either  do  so  or  leave  my 
room?"  continued  the  other,  his  anger  getting  the 
better  of  his  polite  tones.  John  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  The  expressman  was  getting  into  his 
coat,  growling  loudly. 

"I  shall  get  out,"  John  replied  frankly,  smiling  into 
the  boy's  angry  face.  "But  before  that,"  he  went 
on,  "let  us  have  a  few  minutes  of  conversation. 
Afterward,  if  you  still  persist,  I  will  leave  without 
being  dropped  from  the  window."  The  other, 
suddenly  realizing  that  John  was  at  least  fifty 
pounds  heavier  and  very  much  stronger,  scented 
sarcasm  and  grew  more  incensed. 

"I  can't  imagine  what  you  may  have  to  say,  sir, 


28  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

but  I—  '  he  pronounced  it  Ah — "assure  you  that  I 
have  no  desire  to  hear  a  word  of  it.  You  will 
oblige  me  by  quitting  my  room." 

"Say,"  interrupted  the  expressman,  "do  I  get 
paid  for  that  trunk  or  don't  I  ?" 

"Yes,  you  do,"  answered  his  late  adversary. 
"You  get  fifty  cents  for  bringing  it  out  from  Boston, 
but  you  don't  get  anything  for  toting  it  upstairs:" 

"All  right,  give  me  the  fifty.  Gee,  I've  wasted  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  here  now;  I  could  have  made 
another  fifty  in  that  time." 

"You  acknowledge,  then,  do  you,  that  you  had 
no  right  to  ask  an  extra  fee  for  bringing  it  upstairs  ?" 

"Aw,  what  yer  givin'  us?  I  ain't  askin'  for  it, 
am  I?"  He  turned  to  John  and  with  difficulty 
winked  his  eye  slyly.  "I  guess  I  got  a  quarter's 
worth,  eh?" 

"You  look  as  though  you  had,"  replied  John 
gravely. 

"You  can  go  now,"  said  the  host. 

"Aw,  is  that  so?"  growled  the  expressman. 

"And  here's  your  money."  He  handed  the  other 
a  crisp  dollar  bill. 

"What's  to  keep  me  from  pocketin'  the  whole 
thing?"  asked  the  expressman. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  29 

"Nothing;  that's  what  you're  to  do.  I'm  giving 
you  fifty  cents  for  the  trunk  and  fifty  cents  for  a 
tip."  The  expressman  opened  his  eyes  until  they 
threatened  to  fall  from  his  head. 

"Well,  I'll  be  darned!"  he  gasped.  "Say,  why 
couldn't  you  give  me  the  quarter  I  asked  for  in  the 
first  place?" 

"Because  I  didn't  please  to,"  was  the  calm 
response.  "Your  demand  was  unjust." 

"Oh,  you're  a  wonder!"  sighed  the  other  hope- 
lessly. "But,  say,  any  time  you  want  to  go  en 
with  this,  just  let  me  know.  You  got  the  best  of  it 
to-day,  but  then  you  haven't  been  wrestling  with 
trunks  since  seven  o'clock.  Next  time  it  might  be 
different,  eh?" 

There  was  no  answer  and  the  expressman  pocketed 
his  money,  winked  good-naturedly  at  John  and 
went  out. 

"Good-by,  sonny,"  he  called  from  the  hall. 
John  smiled  and  Phillip  Ryerson,  scowling  haughtily 
at  him  from  the  centre  of  the  room,  saw  it  and 
clenched  his  hands. 

"Now,  sir,  if  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  follow!"  he 
said  in  a  high,  arrogant  voice.  John's  temper 
suddenlv  gave  way  and  he  arose  from  the  trunk. 


30  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

He  moved  slowly  across  the  apartment  until  he 
was  facing  his  host. 

"Look  here,  you  are  Ryerson,  aren't  you — Phillip 
Ryerson,  of  Something-or-other  Court  House,  What- 
you-call-it  County,  State  of  Virginia?" 

"Yes."  Phillip's  curiosity  for  a  moment  got  the 
best  of  his  wrath.  "How  do  you  know  so  much 
about  me?"  he  asked  suspiciously. 

"Oh,  what  does  it  matter?"  answered  John 
wearily.  "But  since  you  are  Ryerson,  allow  me 
to  tell  you  that  you're  a  very  fresh  little  boy  and 
ought  to  have  a  thundering  good  spanking.  Good- 
afternoon." 

Phillip  watched  him  in  silence  until  he  had  reached 
the  door;  he  was  very  angry,  deeply  insulted,  but 
he  was  also  rather  uneasy.  His  visitor,  now  that 
he  observed  him  more  closely,  did  not  look  quite 
like  an  impertinent  proctor.  He  wondered  if  he 
had  not  been  a  bit  ill-mannered  and  hasty.  After 
all,  if  he  wanted  people  to  keep  out  of  his  room  he 
should  have  locked  the  door.  He  took  a  step 
forward,  his  lips  shaping  a  hurried  apology.  But 
the  visitor  passed  into  the  hall,  and  after  a  moment 
of  hesitation  Phillip  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Let  him  go,  hang  him  !"  he  muttered. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  31 

John  found  David  at  the  dinner  table.  The 
former's  face  still  expressed  a  measure  of  exaspera- 
tion as  he  sank  into  a  chair  at  his  friend's  side. 
David  grinned. 

"How  did  you  find  the  boy,  Johnnie  ?"  he  asked. 

John  flirted  his  nakpin  open  and  eyed  his  thick 
soup  with  disfavour  before  he  answered. 

"Well,  Davy,"  he  said  finally,  "I  think  he'll  do. 
I  found  him  beating  an  expressman  to  jelly  because 
the  latter  wanted  to  overcharge  him.  He  seems  a 
peculiarly  gentle,  amiable  youth,  and  I  think  he 
will  get  on  very  nicely  without  our  tender  care, 
Davy." 

"Our  care !" 

"I  should  have  said  mine.  And  I  believe  I 
neglected  to  add  that  later  on  he  ordered  me  out  of 
his  room  and  that  I  went." 

David  chuckled  loudly. 

"The  sweet  child !"  he  exclaimed.  "Johnnie,  I 
can  see  that  you  are  destined  to  spend  a  busy,  useful 
and  not  uninteresting  year." 

"Not  I,"  answered  John.  "I  shan't  go  near  the 
little  fool  again.  And  Corliss  can  look  somewhere 
else  for  a  nurse  for  the  precious  kid." 

But  David  shook  his  head  solemnly. 


32  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"That  won't  do,  Johnnie.  You  can't  shift  respon- 
sibilities like  that ;  you've  got  a  duty  to  perform,  my 
boy,  and  I  shall  see  that  you  attend  to  it.  You 
must  make  allowances  for  the  poor  child's  fiery 
Southern  nature,  and 

"Fiery  Southern  fiddlesticks !  Eat  your  dinner, 
man;  we're  going  in  to  the  theatre." 

And  they  went.  And  David  slept  peacefully 
through  three  acts  of  a  Pinero  comedy  and  enjoyed 
it  hugely 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  bell  on  Harvard  Hall  clanged  imperatively 
and  a  new  college  year  began.  The  leaves  in  the 
Yard  rustled  tremulously  under  the  touch  of  a  cool 
breeze  out  of  the  east,  and  here  and  there  one  flut- 
tered downward,,  dropping  from  branch  to  branch 
lightly,  lingeringly,  as  though  loath  to  own  its  life  at 
an  end.  Summer,  which  had  loitered  overlate  in 
New  England,  had  stolen  southward  in  the  night 
and  to-day  autumn  was  firmly  enthroned.  There 
was  a  crispness  in  the  air  that  bade  the  blood  run 
swifter ;  feet  that  yesterday  had  dragged  themselves 
wearily  over  the  hot  pavements  to-day  trod  the  walks 
blithely;  overhead  the  sky  showed  a  different  blue, 
more  distant  and  ethereal.  It  was  good  to  be  alive. 

Phillip  Ryerson,  hurrying  across  the  yard  to  his 
first  recitation,  felt  the  invigoration  of  the  morning. 
Yesterday  had  been  a  day  of  trials  and  vexations; 
to-day  he  experienced  a  pleasurable  excitement  and 
a  comforting  faith  in  his  ability  to  hold  his  own 
in  this  new  little  world  into  which,  by  means  of 

33 


34  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

certain  nightmarish  examinations  the  mere  recollec- 
tion of  which  made  him  shudder,  he  had  fought  his 
way.  He  had  lived  his  life  out-of-doors  and  was 
susceptible  to  Nature's  every  mood.  To-day  he  was 
laughing  brightly  and  Phillip's  heart  echoed  the 
laughter.  Under  one  far-shading  tree  he  paused, 
unaware  of  the  curious  or  amused  glances  thrown 
upon  him  by  passers,  and  looked  upward  into  the 
green,  sun-flecked  gloom  of  interlacing  branches 
and  sniffed  the  delicate  odour  exhaled  therefrom. 
Suddenly  a  faint,  almost  imperceptible  stir  far  up 
the  grayish  trunk  caught  his  senses.  He  watched 
and  presently  two  little  eyes  twinkled  down  at  him 
inquiringly.  He  uttered  a  softly  shrill  whistle  and 
in  response  there  was  an  excited  chattering  in  the 
branches  and  a  sleek  squirrel  descended  nimbly, 
swaying  a  thick,  handsome  tail,  until  he  clung  head- 
downward  a  foot  or  two  out  of  reach. 

"Hello,  Mister  Gray  Squirrel,"  said  Phillip  softly. 
"  Come  on  down.  Can't  you  see  I  haven't  got  a  gun  ? 
Anyway,  I  reckon  you  wouldn't  know  a  gun  if  you 
saw  it,  would  you  ?" 

The  squirrel  chattered  volubly,  his  bright  eyes 
twinkling  hither  and  thither  and  his  little  nose 
working  anxiously. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  35 

"Why,  you  little  rascal,"  cried  Phillip,  "you're 
asking  for  breakfast.  I'm  mighty  sorry,  but  I  don't 
reckon  I've  got  anything  you'll  care  about.  Let's 
see."  He  searched  his  pockets  carefully,  the 
squirrel  edging  a  few  inches  nearer  and  watching 
him  intently.  But,  save  for  a  few  crumbs  of 
tobacco,  Phillip's  pockets  contained  nothing  that 
had  even  the  appearance  of  edibles.  He  shook  his 
head. 

"Not  a  thing,"  he  said  aloud.  "But  you  wait 
until  next  time  and  I'll  bring  you  some  nuts."  The 
squirrel  seemed  to  understand,  for  he  squeaked 
disappointedly  and  turned  tail.  Footsteps  crossed 
the  grass  and  Phillip  turned. 

"  I  guess  he'll  eat  peanuts  all  right." 

A  fellow  of  about  Phillip's  age  approached.  He 
was  a  sunny-haired,  blue-eyed  youth,  and  Phillip 
thought  he  had  never  seen  one  cleaner  or  more  whole- 
some. He  smiled  genially  and  held  out  three  or 
four  peanuts. 

"  Let's  try  these  on  him,"  he  said.    "  Here,  Sport !" 

The  squirrel  looked  doubtfully  for  an  instant  at 
the  newcomer,  and  then  his  eyes  fell  on  the  delica- 
cies and  he  scrambled  down  onto  the  grass  and 
approached  bravely. 


36  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Some  of  them  will  eat  out  of  your  hand,"  said 
the  yellow-haired  youth.  "Come  and  get  them  if 
you  want  them." 

The  squirrel  hesitated  a  moment  at  arm's  length 
and  then  ran  forward  and  seized  the  nut.  Retiring 
to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  he  ate  it  hurriedly,  apparently 
fearful  that  the  others  would  escape  him  if  he 
lingered  overlong  at  the  first. 

"Tame,  aren't  they?"  said  Phillip. 

"Yes.  There  a're  lots  of  them  here  in  the  Yard. 
There's  one  chap — he  has  part  of  his  tail  chewed  off, 
so  I  know  him — came  up  to  my  window-ledge  yes- 
terday and  just  begged.  So  I  got  some  peanuts  for 
him.  But  he  hasn't  been  around  yet  to-day,  though 
I  saw  him  in  a  tree  a  minute  ago.  Come  on,  Sport ; 
here's  another.  I  can't  wait  here  all  day,  you 
know." 

The  invitation  was  readily  accepted  and,  tossing 
the  rest  of  the  nuts  onto  the  grass,  the  youth  turned 
away.  Phillip  followed  and  the  two  walked  along 
together,  hurrying  a  little,  since  the  bell  had 
ceased  its  summons. 

"  I  guess  this  isn't  your  first  year?"  said  the  blue- 
eyed  fellow  questioningly. 

"It  is,  though,"  answered  Phillip. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  37 

"Really?     I    thought "     He    hesitated    and 

then  turned  a  laughing  face  to  the  other.     "  I  guess 
I  won't  say  it." 

"Go  ahead,"  begged  Phillip.  "I  can't  see  how 
you  could  have  taken  me  for  an  old  stager." 

"Well,  you  looked  so  kind  of  don't-give-a-hang, 
standing  under  the  tree  there,  that  I  thought  you 
were  probably  a  soph.  Hope  you  won't  take  that 
as  an  insult." 

"No  indeed;  why  should  I?  I  rather  wish  I  was 
a  sophomore,  I  reckon." 

"  Phew !  That's  regular  treason !  Don't  you 
know  that  a  freshman  holds  a  soph,  in  the  deepest 
contempt?" 

"  No,  I  didn't  know  it.     Why  ?  " 

"Oh — well,  just  because,  I  guess.  It's — it's 
reciprocal.  You  have  to;  it's  part  of  the  game." 

"  Oh."  Phillip  looked  puzzled.  They  had  reached 
the  steps  of  the  recitation  hall.  "  Well,  I'm  going 
in  here,"  he  said,  hesitatingly. 

"  So'm  I,"  answered  his  new  acquaintance.  "  And 
say,  afterward  come  over  to  my  room  in  Thayer 
with  me  and  we'll  see  if  we  can't  find  that  other 
squirrel,  eh?" 

"Thanks,"  answered  Phillip;  "I'll  look  for  you." 


38  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Oh,  come  on;  we'll  get  seats  together." 
But  they  didn't,  and  so,  for  a  time,  Phillip  lost 
sight  of  the  other.  But  during  the  next  half -hour 
his  thoughts  were  busy  with  him.  It  did  not  seem 
extraordinary  to  him  that  the  blue-eyed  youth 
should  have  made  overtures  of  friendship  as  he  had. 
In  Virginia  one  spoke  to  strangers  on  the  road,  and 
common  courtesy  demanded  a  certain  disregard  of 
conventionalities.  Later,  however,  when  Phillip 
had  seen  more  of  college  life  and  customs,  he  mar- 
veled greatly.  Now  he  wondered  what  the  white 
E  embroidered  on  the  other's  crimson  cap  meant, 
and  resolved  to  purchase  a  cap  just  like  it  at  once. 
Also,  the  stunning  shirt  of  white  and  green  and  pink 
stripes  worn  by  his  new  acquaintance  made  him 
dissatisfied  with  his  own  stiff -bosomed  affair ;  and  he 
acknowledged  the  superiority,  from  the  standpoint 
of  picturesqueness,  of  knickerbockers  and  golf  stock- 
ings over  long  trousers.  He  wondered  how  much 
such  articles  of  apparel  cost  and  what  would  be  left 
to  him  of  his  present  capital  after  he  had  made  such 
purchases  as  now  seemed  necessary. 

He  found  the  crimson  cap  waiting  for  him  on  the 
steps  when  he  filed  out  and  he  ranged  his  own  straw 
hat  beside  it.  Together  the  two  made  their  way 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  39 

past  University  to  the  farther  end  of  Thayer.  Here 
Phillip  was  guided  into  a  corner  study  on  the  first 
floor. 

On  the  door  a  clean,  new  card  was  tacked  and 
Phillip  read  the  inscription  as  he  passed: 

"Mr.  Chester  M.  Baker." 

He  made  a  mental  note  to  order  some  like  it  and 
throw  away  those  he  had,  on  which  his  name  was 
engraved  in  a  flowing  script  which  he  had  heretofore 
thought  very  beautiful,  but  which  he  now  surmised 
to  be  sadly  out  of  style. 

The  study  in  which  Phillip  found  himself  was 
homelike  and  well  furnished,  but  in  no  way  remarka- 
ble. The  pictures  were  few  and  good ;  the  rugs  and 
upholsterings  were  bright  and  aggressively  new; 
only  the  cushions  in  the  window-seat  and  the  half- 
hundred  books  showed  the  dignity  of  usage.  But 
Phillip  thought  it  a  very  nice  room,  with  its  view  of 
greensward  and  swaying  branches  through  the  open 
windows,  and  regretted  that  he  had  not  secured 
quarters  in  the  Yard.  His  host  tossed  the  crimson 
cap  onto  the  table. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  said.  "  By  the  way,  you  haven't 
any  recitation  for  this  hour,  have  you?" 

Phillip  shook  his  head,  and  his  host  went  on : 


40  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"All  right;  let's  see  if  we  can  find  Raggles." 

"Raggles?"  questioned  Phillip. 

"Yes,  the  squirrel;  I  call  him  Raggles  because  his 
tail  is  all  frayed  out.  And  talking  of  names,  mine's 
Baker." 

"And  mine's  Ryerson,"  answered  Phillip. 

"Now  we  know  who  we  are,"  said  Baker.  He 
went  to  the  window  and  threw  some  peanuts 
onto  the  gravel  outside.  Phillip  followed  and, 
peering  over  the  other's  shoulder,  waited  for 
the  squirrel  to  appear.  But,  although  they  offered 
every  inducement,  Raggles  failed  to  present 
himself,  and  they  made  themselves  comfortable 
on  the  window  -  seat  and  ate  the  peanuts 
themselves. 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  this  E  stands 
for?"  asked  Phillip,  pointing  to  one  of  the  cushions. 
"I  saw  it  on  your  cap,  you  know."  Baker  looked 
surprised. 

"Why,  Exeter,"  he  answered. 

"Oh,"  said  Phillip.  "That's  in  New  Hampshire, 
isn't  it?" 

"Yes."  The  host  was  plainly  bewildered  at  the 
other's  ignorance.  "Where  did  you  prepare?"  he 
asked. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  41 

Phillip  named  a  small  academy  near  Richmond, 
and  Baker  nodded  his  head  politely. 

"You  live  in  Virginia?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  at  Melville  Court  House.  It's  about  fifty 
miles  from  Alexandria.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have 
been  so  far  north,  except  last  spring  when  I  came  up 
for  exams." 

"I  knew  you  were  a  Southerner,"  smiled  Baker. 
"You  say  'Ah'  for  I  and  'aboot'  for  about.  It's 
great ;  I  wish  I  could  do  it.  I  talk  through  my  silly 
nose,  like  all  Yankees." 

"I  think  you  talk  very  nicely,"  said  Phillip.  "I 
suppose  I  do  pronounce  things  differently  from  folks 
up  North  here.  Do  you  live  in  Boston?" 

"  Save  us  ! "  cried  Baker.  "  No,  I'm  from  Rutland, 
Vermont.  When  you  meet  a  real,  dyed-in-the-wool 
Bostonian  you'll  see  the  difference.  Do  you  know 
any  folks  in  town?" 

"No.  I  haven't  any  acquaintances  at  all  here- 
abouts except  my  adviser.  You're  the  first  one," 
he  added  with  a  smile. 

"Really?"  cried  Baker.  "Well,  I  know  stacks 
of  fellows  and  I'll  introduce  you  'round.  My  chum's 
a  chap  named  Bassett.  You'll  like  Guy ;  he's  awfully 
jolly.  We'll  have  lots  of  fun.  Only "  his 


42  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

face  fell — "only  the  trouble  is  that  Laurence  is 
here." 

"Laurence?" 

"  Yes,  he's  my  big  brother ;  a  senior.  That  makes 
it  awkward,  you  see,  because  he'll  think  it's  his 
plaguey  duty  to  keep  watch  on  me.  I  wanted  to 
go  to  Yale  for  that  reason,  but  dad  thought  it  would 
be  better  if  I  came  here  so  that  Laurence  could 
guide  my  trembling  footsteps  during  my  first  year 
in  the  midst  of  college  temptations."  He  grinned. 
"  Dad  thinks  Laurence  is  a  wonder.  But  if  he  gets 
too  obnoxious  I'll  threaten  to  tell  some  of  the  things 
I  know  about  him." 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  rather  nice  to  have 
a  brother  in  college, "  said  Phillip.  "  I  wish  I  had. " 

"  If  you  had  you'd  wish  you  hadn't.  Where  do 
you  room?" 

Phillip  told  him. 

' '  I  didn't  try  for  a  room  in  the  Yard, ' '  he  explained, 
"because  my  father  went  here  and  he  lived  outside. 
We  used  to  talk  about  it  before — before  he  died, 
and  we  decided  that  I  was  to  get  a  place  outside,  too. 
I  reckon  if  it  hadn't  been  that  father  went  here  I'd 
have  gone  to  the  University.  " 

"The  University?"  queried  Baker. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  43 

"University  of  Virginia.  But  father  always 
wanted  that  I  should  go  to  Harvard.  Of  course,  I 
wished  to  please  him,  but  if  I'd  had  my  choice  I'd 
have  gone  to  the  University.  You  see,  I'd  have 
known  more  fellows  there.  Up  here  I  only  know 
you  and  a  senior;  and  I  haven't  met  him  yet." 

Baker  looked  mystified  and  Phillip  went  on. 

"Father  had  a  friend  in  Washington,  and  when 
he  learned  that  I  was  coming  up  here  he  wrote  to  a 
friend  of  his,  a  senior  here,  and  asked  him  to  call  on 
me.  But  I  haven't  seen  him  yet." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"  North ;  John  North.     Do  you  know  him  ? " 

"No,  I've  never  met  him  yet,"  answered  Baker, 
"  but  Laurence  is  going  to  take  me  'round  to  see  him 
to-night,  I  think.  But  if  John  North's  your  friend, 
you'll  get  on  finely.  He  knows  everybody  worth 
knowing  and  is  a  regular  high  muckamuck  himself. 
You're  in  luck." 

"Am  I?  I  thought  likely  he'd  call  last  night, 
but  he  didn't." 

"Well,  I  guess  he's  pretty  busy.  I  hear  he's 
going  to  be  assistant  football  coach  this  fall;  you 
know  he's  played  for  the  last  three  years  on  the 
'Varsity." 


44  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  I  think  I'd  like  to  play  football, "  said  Phillip. 

"I  daresay,"  laughed  Baker.  "So'd  I.  I'd  like 
to  play  quarter  on  the  'Varsity,  but  I  don't  think  I 
shall." 

"  Why,  is  it  hard  to  get  on  the  team  ?  " 

"It's  like  pulling  teeth  unless  you're  an  A  i 
player.  I'm  going  to  try  for  the  Freshman  Eleven ; 
you'd  better,  too.  Then,  if  you  make  that  and  get 
on  all  right,  you'll  stand  a  show  for  the  'Varsity 
next  fall.  Have  you  played  much  ?" 

"No,  I've  never  played  at  all." 

"  Oh ;  well,  you'll  find  it  hard  at  first, "  said  Baker. 
"Candidates  for  the  Freshman  team  are  called  for 
to-morrow  afternoon.  If  you  like,  Guy  and  I'll 
call  for  you  on  our  way  over  to  the  field. " 

"Thank  you;  I  wish  you  would,"  replied  Phillip. 
"What  must  I  wear?" 

"  Oh,  any  old  sweater  and  a  pair  of  moleskins. " 

"I'll  have  to  get  some,  I  reckon. " 

"You  can  get  them  at  the  Cooperative  Society, 
if  you  don't  want  to  go  into  town.  What  courses 
are  you  taking?" 

For  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour  the  talk  ranged 
over  the  subject  of  studies,  and  Phillip  discovered, 
on  the  authority  of  his  host,  that  he  had  made 


THE  LAND   OF  JOY  45 

several  frightful  mistakes  in  his  choice  of  courses, 
and  was  quite  cast  down  until  Baker  assured  him 
that  it  didn't  matter  anyhow,  because  no  one  studied 
much  in  his  freshman  year.  Phillip  expressed 
surprise,  and  Baker  explained  that  a  fellow  had 
too  much  to  do  to  find  time  for  grinding. 

"Of  course,"  he  allowed,  "you  have  to  keep  up 
with  things  after  a  fashion,  for  there  are  the  mid- 
years; but  you'll  soon  find  out  just  how  much 
work  is  necessary.  Lots  of  fellows  loaf  until  just 
before  the  exams  and  then  turn  to  and  grind  and 
take  seminars,  but  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  do  a 
little  every  day,  you  know,  and  keep  up  with  the 
course  of  events,  as  it  were.  Besides,  it  costs  like  the 
very  deuce  to  be  coached.  Why,  there  are  some 
coaches  ask  twenty  and  even  twenty-five  dollars 
for  a  seminar,  and  get  it,  too  !  Laurence  says  he 
was  broke  for  six  months  after  the  mid-years  last 
winter." 

"I  couldn't  afford  that,"  said  Phillip,  thought- 
fully. "  But  I  reckon  I'll  follow  your  plan  and  keep 
up  with  things.  I  suppose  I'm  going  to  have  hard 
work,  for  I  had  an  awful  time  passing  the  exams." 

"Oh,  well,  that  doesn't  cut  much  ice,"  answered 
Baker.  "It's  hard  to  get  into  this  old  place,  but 


46  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

fairly  easy  to  get  along  afterward.  Now,  some  of 
the  other  colleges  let  you  in  easy,  they  say,  and 
you're  tickled  to  death  and  think  you've  got  nothing 
to  do  but  look  pretty.  But  you  find  that  you've 
got  to  study  like  the  deuce  to  stay  there,  and  you 
wish  exams  hadn't  been  so  soft  and  that  you'd 
learned  a  lot  more  before  you  came.  Do  you  like 
theatres?" 

"Yes,  immensely;  although  I've  never  been  a 
great  deal." 

"No  more  have  I — that  is,  not  such  a  lot. 
I've  seen  pretty  much  everything  good,  but 
there's  a  lot  of  jolly  nonsense  I've  missed.  I'm 
going  to  change  that.  I  love  melodrama.  Did 
you  ever  see  'The  Great  Northwest'  ?  or  'The 
Convict's  Daughter'  ?  or  'The  Great  White 
Diamond'?" 

Phillip  shook  his  head  apologetically.  Some- 
how, he  felt  rather  small  and  unimportant  in  the 
presence  of  the  easy-mannered,  laughing-eyed  youth 
before  him. 

"And  there  are  usually  some  jolly  good  burlesque 
shows  in  town.  And  I'm  going  to  see  'Florodora' 
and  'San  Toy'  and  'Miss  Simplicity'  when  they 
come.  Guy  and  I  and  two  or  three  other  dubs 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  47 

are  going  in  to  the  Museum  Friday  night ;  want  to 
come  along  ?  We'd  be  glad  to  have  you. " 

"Thanks,"  answered  Phillip,  doubtfully.  "I 
don't  believe— 

"Oh,  poppycock,  of  course  you'll  come.  I'll  get 
a  seat  for  you,  anyhow.  That  reminds  me,  I  must 
do  it  to-day.  You  get  them  at  Thurston's  and  have 
them  charged  and  they  cost  about  a  -thousand 
dollars  apiece.  It's  very  convenient. " 

"Well,  I'll  go  then,"  laughed  Phillip.  "I  only 
hesitated  because  I  haven't  been  going  around  to 
things  much  lately.  You  see,  my  father  died  only 
last  winter.  But  I  should  like  to  go  if  you're  sure 
your  friends  won't  mind." 

"They'll  be  tickled  into  convulsions,"  declared 
Baker.  "Well,  I  guess  we'll  have  to  go  and  try 
another  stunt.  It's  five  minutes  of. " 

They  passed  out  together  and  parted  company 
in  front  of  University. 

"Come  and  see  me  often,"  commanded  Baker. 
"  Let's  set  things  humming.  And  we'll  stop  for  you 
at  your  joint  to-morrow  afternoon  about  three- 
thirty." 

He  waved  a  note-book  and  hurried  off,  whistling 
at  the  top  of  his  lungs.  Phillip  fished  a  schedule 


48  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

from  his  pocket,  learned  where  his  ten  o'clock 
recitation  was  held,  tried  to  remember  where  that 
particular  hall  was  located,  consulted  a  pocket 
directory  filled  with  boarding-house  advertisements, 
and  finally  strode  on.  And  as  he  went  he  reflected 
ruefully  that  if  he  was  going  to  keep  pace  with 
Chester  Baker  and  the  unknown  Guy  Bassett  and 
their  companions,  his  already  sadly  diminished 
capital,  originally  designed  to  last  him  until  the 
Christmas  recess,  would  very  soon  be  only  a  memory. 
But  after  three  days  in  Cambridge  without  acquaint- 
ances, the  new  friendship  between  Baker  and  him- 
self was  such  a  pleasant  thing  that  the  contemplation 
of  it  drove  all  disquieting  thoughts  out  of  his  mind. 
"After  all,"  he  told  himself  when,  at  noon,  he 
climbed  into  one  of  the  revolving  stools  at  the  dairy 
lunch  counter  and  demanded  sandwiches  and  pud- 
ding and  milk,  "  I  reckon  the  first  expense  is  always 
bigger  than  you  look  for.  And  after  Christmas  I'll 
settle  down  and  economize." 


CHAPTER   IV 

PHILLIP  couldn't  help  thinking,  when,  attired  in 
his  new  football  togs,  he  faced  his  reflection  in  the 
mirror,  that  he  was  doing  himself  and  perhaps  the 
college  an  injustice  in  trying  for  the  freshman  team 
instead  of  the  'varsity.  He  grew  quite  uneasy 
about  it  and  wondered  for  a  moment  whether 
Chester  Baker's  sudden  friendship  was  not  part  of 
a  deeply  laid  plan  to  secure  his  services  for  the 
minor  eleven.  But  he  kept  his  misgivings  to  him- 
self when,  at  half -past  three  the  next  afternoon,  he 
found  himself  being  conducted  over  to  Soldiers' 
Field  by  Chester  Baker  and  Guy  Bassett. 

The  latter  youth  looked  to  be  a  year  or  so  older 
than  Chester,  and  was  tall  and  distinguished- 
appearing  even  in  the  well-worn  canvas  trousers 
and  faded  sweater.  He  had  what  Phillip  was  sure 
were  "chiseled  features,"  with  very  steady  brown 
eyes  set  far  apart  and  brown  hair  that  was  parted 
in  the  middle  and  which  was  as  smooth  and 
glossy  as  though  newly  ironed.  Phillip  thought 

49 


50  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

his  manners  wonderful;  he  had  shaken  hands  with 
a  degree  of  empressement  which  in  most  would  have 
been  unpleasant  but  which  in  his  case  seemed 
absolutely  natural.  He  said  strange  things  in  a 
grave  voice  and  with  a  perfectly  serious  countenance, 
and  during  the  first  few  weeks  of  their  acquaintance 
Phillip  never  knew  for  certain  when  the  other  was 
in  earnest.  Sometimes  he  took  his  cue  from  Chester 
and  echoed  that  youth's  laughter,  but  more  often 
he  made  use  of  a  happy  compromise  and  smiled 
wisely,  as  one  to  whom  sad  experience  had  taught 
the  futility  of  either  laughter  or  seriousness.  And 
Guy,  perceiving  the  other's  predicament,  excelled 
himself  in  the  utterance  of  extravagances. 

Phillip  had  acknowledged  cheerfully  his  ignorance 
of  all  save  the  rudiments  of  football,  and  Guy  had 
nodded  commendingly. 

"I  think  you'll  make  a  success  at  it,"  he  said 
gravely.  "  I  only  wish  I  had  your  ignorance  of  the 
game. " 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Phillip,  "I  should  think  that 
ignorance  was  something  of  a  drawback  to  a  fellow.  " 

"  Yes,  that's  the  popular  impression,  but,  like 
most  popular  impressions,  it's  quite  erroneous.  It 
is  ignorance  that  wins  'every  time.  Take  your  own 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  51 

case  for  example.  You  know  no  more  of  the  game 
than  you  have  learned  from  seeing  it  played  on 
three  occasions.  You  are  free  from  prejudices ;  you 
do  not  insist  that  the  ball  must  be  handled  in  a 
certain  way.  It  makes  no  difference  to  you  whether 
the  quarter  holds  it  with  a  stiff  hand  or  a  loose  one, 
whether  he  has  the  belly  of  the  ball  or  the  end. 
You  haven't  played  the  game  until  you've  got 
yourself  into  a  rut  hemmed  in  by  customs  and 
precedents.  Consequently,  if  left  to  your  own 
devices  you  will  play  the  game  naturally.  If  it  comes 
easier  to  you  to  kick  the  ball  with  your  heel  than 
with  your  toe,  you'll  do  it.  If  you  think  you  can 
obtain  better  results  by  tackling  the  referee  instead 
of  the  runner,  you'll  do  that.  Your  mind,  so  far 
as  the  game  of  football  is  concerned,  is  virgin.  You 
learn  the  game  naturally,  as  a  child  learns  to  talk. 
You  will  not  be  restricted  by  rules,  regulations  or 
customs ;  and  so  who  knows  but  that  you'll  improve 
on  the  present  methods?" 

Phillip  smiled  doubtfully  and  shot  a  glance  at  the 
Speaker's  face.  But  Guy  was  looking  straight 
ahead,  thoughtfully  serious,  as  though  enjoying  a 
vision  of  a  gridiron  contest  in  which  the  players* 
emancipated  from  the  iron  heel  of  the  despotic 


52  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

coach,  were  battling  each  as  his  natural  impulse 
taught.  Chester  was  grinning;  but  then  he  gener- 
ally was  grinning,  thought  Phillip. 

"  But  there  would  always  have  to  be  rules, 
wouldn't  there?"  he  asked. 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Guy  calmly.  "Rules 
are  laws;  laws  are  unnatural  mandates  invented 
by  man  to  govern  the  conduct  of  persons  whose 
conscionable  impulses  have  been  so  thwarced  that 
they  no  longer  have  the  power  to  influence." 

Chester  gurgled  rapturously. 

"In  football,"  continued  Guy,  "there  is  a  rule 
which  prohibits  a  player  from  throttling  his  oppo- 
nent or  striking  him  with  his  fist.  Now  where  is 
the  advantage  of  that  rule  ?  It  very  often  happens 
—I  know  that  it  has  in  my  case,  at  all  events— 
that  a  player  can  put  his  opponent  out  of  the  play 
more  speedily  and  certainly  by  striking  him  forcibly 
between  the  eyes  with  the  fist  than  by  pushing 
him  to  one  side.  The  natural  impulse  is  to  do  so. 
Then  why  not  do  it?" 

"But — but "  Phillip  stuttered  in  his  amaze- 
ment. "  But  that  would  be  brutal !  You  might— 
might  injure  the  other  fellow. " 

"Certainly;  I  believe  that  if  done  scientifically 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  53 

and  with  sufficient  force  it  would  kill  him.  And 
there  we  are  again.  The  natural  impulse  is  to  kill 
enough  of  the  opposing  team  to  enable  you  to  win 
the  game.  The  object  of  the  game  is  to  win.  The 
surest  way  to  win  is  to  kill  off  the  other  team  as  fast 
as  possible.  But  there  the  very  persons  who  should 
do  all  in  their  power  to  advance  the  sport  step  in 
with  a  foolish,  contradictory  rule  prohibiting  you 
from  slaying  your  man  in  any  save  one  or  two 
almost  impossible  methods.  Any  one  who  has 
played  football  at  all  knows  that  you  can't  kill 
your  opponent  by  throwing  him  or  by  pawing  him 
on  the  chest  with  the  open  hand.  It's  the  dreariest 
nonsense !  Consider  the  one  or  two  real  killings 
that  football  history  shows.  In  each  case  the  deed 
has  been  done  either  by  stamping  the  fellow's  brains 
out  or  jumping  onto  his  spinal  column  so  as  to 
break  his  neck,  or  in  some  way  that  the  idiotic 
rules  prohibit.  Rules !  Why,  they're  the  very 
things  that  are  retarding  the  true  development  of 
the  game." 

"Oh,  shut  up,  Guy!"  sputtered  Chester.  Phillip 
laughed  uncertainly.  Of  course  Bassett  was  only 
fooling,  but  he  did  it  with  such  a  straight  face, 
thought  Phillip,  that  any  one  might  be  deceived. 


54  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

They  turned  in  at  the  Newell  Gate  and  followed  the 
path  around  the  Locker  Building.  The  field  was 
already  well  dotted  with  fellows;  it  looked  to 
Phillip  as  though  every  man  who  could  beg,  buy 
or  borrow  a  pair  of  football  trousers  had  turned 
out. 

"Think  over  what  I've  said,"  pleaded  Guy,  as 
they  approached  the  group  of  waiting  candidates 
for  the  freshman  team.  "  You've  got  the  making  of 
a  great  football  player,  Ryerson;  you  start  in  with 
the  most  valuable  asset  of  all,  ignorance.  Be  true 
to  your  impulses  and  resist  to  the  last  drop  of  blood 
in  your  veins  the  coercion  of  narrow-minded,  hide- 
bound, bigoted  coaches  and  captains  You  have  a 
great  future  before  you,  my  boy  Remain  true  to 
yourself,  and  Chester  and  I  will  look  back  to  this 
day  in  which  we  were  privileged  to  know  you  ere 
you  were  discovered  to  fame  as  the  proudest  day 
of  our  lives." 

A  half-hour  later  Phillip  had  begun  to  doubt 
whether  he  was  destined  to  cut  such  a  wide  swath 
in  the  football  landscape  as  he  had  believed.  His 
opinion  of  his  prowess  had  shrunk  to  such  modest 
dimensions  that  he  was  ready  to  acquit  Chester 
of  all  such  designs  on  him  as  he  had  momentarily 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  55 

suspected  him  of.  And,  moreover,  he  was  rather 
glad  that  he  had  not  attempted  the  Varsity  team, 
as  he  had  at  first  intended  doing.  Physical  fatigue 
is  conducive  to  self-disparagement,  and  Phillip 
ached  in  all  the  bones  that  he  had  known  himself 
the  possessor  of  and  in  several  the  presence  of  which 
inside  his  anatomy  came  to  him  as  a  startling  and 
pa.inful  surprise. 

He  had  taken  part,  together  with  some  half- 
hundred  other  hopefuls,  in  a  number  of  strange 
exercises.  First  the  candidates  had  been  lined  up 
on  the  thirty-yard  mark  and,  at  the  flourish  of  the 
coach's  cap,  had  raced  frantically  at  top  speed  to 
the  goal  line.  This  had  been  repeated  exactly  five 
times,  and  at  the  end  of  the  last  dash  Phillip  sank 
down  onto  the  turf  and  hung  his  tongue  out.  Fall- 
ing on  the  ball,  in  all  its  variations,  had  followed. 
As  Phillip  had  never  attempted  the  feat  before, 
his  success  was  negative,  judged  from  the  coach's 
standpoint,  but  really  wonderful  in  other  ways.  He 
found  it  very  thrilling  and  was  ready  to  believe  that 
as  an  exercise  it  was  far  ahead  of  any  method  he  had 
tried.  Punting  succeeded  falling  on  the  ball,  and 
from  this  he  would  have  extracted  not  a  little  enjoy- 
ment had  it  not  been  that  it  hurt  him  terribly  every 


56  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

time  he  lifted  his  foot  into  the  air.  At  last  practice 
was  over  for  that  day  and  he  wandered  out  of  the 
crowd  looking  rather  dejected.  He  had  given  his 
name  and  had  been  instructed  to  report  the  next 
afternoon  at  the  same  time.  But  anticipation  of 
the  next  day's  proceedings  occasioned  him  no 
delight,  and  he  wondered  whether  second-hand 
football  togs,  worn  only  once,  had  any  market  value. 

Chester  and  Guy  discovered  him  and  dragged  him 
across  to  the  Varsity  gridiron,  in  spite  of  his  emphatic 
requests  to  be  allowed  to  go  home  and  study. 

"Study?"  cried  Chester.  "How  you  do  talk! 
What,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  sensible,  do  you  want 
to  grind  on  a  nice  afternoon  like  this  for  ?  Come  on ; 
we'll  go  over  and  sit  on  the  seats  and  criticize  the 
'varsity  chaps.  How  did  you  get  on?" 

"Not  very  well,  I  reckon,"  answered  Phillip. 
"I  couldn't  get  the  hang  of  falling  on  the  ball,  and 
when  I  tried  to  kick  my  legs  ached  so  I  couldn't. 
In  fact,  I  ache  mighty  near  all  over. ' ' 

Chester  grinned  and  Guy  raised  his  eyebrows  in 
polite  surprise.  "You'll  feel  better  to-morrow," 
assured  the  former,  and  the  latter  murmured: 
:  Tis  sweet  to  die  for  one's  class." 

Beyond  the  fence  the  Varsity  candidates  were 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  57 

punting  and  catching  and  jogging  about  the  field  in 
little  groups  that  paused  for  a  moment  over  the  ball 
and,  at  the  signal,  shot  forward  as  though  about 
to  tear  down  the  gridiron,  but  who  instead  sud- 
denly appeared  to  change  their  minds  and  paused, 
took  breath  and  did  it  all  over  again.  There  were 
five  coaches  present,  and  each  took  his  turn  at 
interrupting  the  captain,  who  was  instructing  an 
assortment  of  backs  in  the  art  of  getting  down 
under  kicks. 

Phillip  seated  himself  beside  his  companions  on 
the  little  bench  by  the  jumping  standard  and 
stretched  his  tired  legs  before  him  with  a  sigh 
of  luxurious  content.  The  scene  interested  and 
pleased  him.  The  grass  was  still  green,  the  white 
clouds  floated  lazily  overhead,  the  river  was  blue 
with  queer  bronze  ripples,  and  the  breeze  that 
stirred  the  damp  hair  over  his  forehead  was  fresh 
and  invigourating.  For  a  time  he  divided  his  atten- 
tion between  the  doings  of  the  crimson-stockinged 
candidates  and  the  conversation  of  the  two  beside 
him.  But  presently  his  thoughts  wandered  off 
into  a  series  of  veritable  day-dreams.  Very  pleasant 
dreams  they  were,  in  which  he  saw  himself  successful 
and  popular,  and  heard  the  plaudits  of  the  admiring 


58  THE   LAND  OF  JOY 

multitude.  Just  what  variety  of  college  fame  he 
had  won  did  not  appear ;  but  whatever  it  was  it  was 
extremely  satisfying,  and  Phillip  saw  himself  bowing 
before  the  storm  of  approval  with  a  nice  mixture  of 
pride  and  modesty.  They  were  calling  his  name 
wildly,  enthusiastically : 

"  Ryerson  !     Ryerson  !     Ryer !" 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  sat  up  with  a  start. 
Chester  was  shaking  him  by  the  neck  and  laughing. 

"Wake  up,  you  sleepy  cuss,  and  answer  to  your 
name !" 

"I — I  don't  think  I  was  asleep,"  murmured 
Phillip. 

"Well,  you've  got  another  think.  I  was  telling 
Guy  that  I  met  the  famous  John  North  last  night. 
Laurence  took  me  over  to  his  room  in  Little's.  I 
told  him  about  you  and  he  says  he's  called  on  you. " 

"Called  on  me?"  repeated  Phillip.  "Did  he  say 
when?  I  reckon  I  was  out.  I'm  sorry." 

"Why,  that's  the  funny  part  of  it,"  answered 
Chester.  "  I  said  I'd  met  you,  and  he  asked  kind  of 
dryly  whether  I'd  found  you  belligerent.  I  told  him 
no,  and  said  that  you'd  spoken  of  expecting  a  call 
from  him.  He  said  he  had  called  and  that  you  and 
he  had  had  a  very  interesting  talk.  He  looked  so 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  59 

darned  queer,  though,  that  I  thought  maybe  he 
was  stringing  me." 

Phillip  looked  puzzled  for  an  instant;  then  a 
great  dismay  overspread  his  countenance  and  he 
gripped  Chester  by  the  arm. 

"  What  does  he  look  like  ?"  he  cried. 

"Why,  he Say,  what  is  this — melodrama?" 

"No,  no;  go  on.     Tell  me!" 

'"Give  me  the  chee-ild!'"  exclaimed  Chester, 
tragically.  Then,  observing  Phillip's  expression  of 
anxiety,  he  went  on  soberly:  "He's  about  six 
foot  tall,  I  guess ;  about  three  foot  broad ;  he  has— 
Why,  hang  it,  there  he  is,  crossing  the  field — the 
fellow  talking  with  the  head  coach;  see?" 

Phillip  followed  the  other's  gaze  and  his  heart 
sank. 

"That— that's  not  John  North  !"  he  faltered. 

"You're  a  liar,"  answered  Chester  sweetly. 
Phillip  groaned. 

"Why,  that's— that's " 

Guy  leaned  over  and  patted  him  reassuringly  on 
the  back. 

"Hold  hard,  old  man;  don't  give  way  to  it. 
Give  him  air,  men ;  stand  back  everybody  ! ' ' 

"You  were  about  to  observe?"  asked  Chester. 


60  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Nothing."  Phillip  sat  with  flushed  cheeks  and 
watched  the  approach  of  his  caller  of  Wednesday, 
praying  that  the  latter  would  not  come  near  enough 
to  see  him.  But  John,  in  earnest  conversation  with 
the  head  coach,  came  straight  on  toward  the  bench 
and  only  paused  when  the  edge  of  the  running  track 
was  reached.  Phillip  sank  back  and  tried  to  make 
himself  smaller.  Chester  observed  him  with  interest 
and  curiosity.  John  talked  for  a  minute,  his  back 
toward  the  three,  and  then,  apparently  in  explana- 
tion of  the  subject  under  discussion,  took  the  head 
coach  by  the  shoulders  and  swung  him  slowly  to  the 
left.  The  head  coach  nodded  and  John  glanced  up 
and  caught  sight  of  the  trio  on  the  bench.  His 
gaze  swept  over  them  and  he  nodded  smilingly,  his 
eyes  upon  Chester. 

"  How  are  you?"  responded  tliat  youth. 

Phillip,  his  cheeks  on  fire,  wondered  miserably 
whether  the  senior  had  recognized  him  as  the  "  very 
fresh  little  boy"  who  had  ordered  him  out  of  the 
room.  He  shot  quick  glances  to  left  and  right  with 
the  half-formulated  idea  of  sneaking  out  of  sight. 
What,  he  asked  himself,  must  -North  think  of 
him? 

"  Come  over  and  I'll  introduce  you, "  said  Chester, 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  61 

starting  up.  But  Phillip  dragged  him  back  onto 
the  seat. 

"  No,  please  !     Not  now !"  he  begged. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because There,  he's  going!"  North  and 

the  head  coach  turned  and  strode  off  to  a  group  of 
players.  "I  reckon  I'll  go  back  now,"  said  Phillip. 

"Well,  I  guess  it's  time,"  answered  Chester. 
"The  mosquitoes  are  getting  plaguey  familiar  with 
my  neck.  Coming,  Guy?" 

When  they  reached  the  bridge  the  river  had 
changed  its  hue.  It  was  the  colour  of  steel  now, 
shot  with  ripples  of  lemon  yellow.  Across  the 
stream  and  to  the  left  the  windows  of  the  University 
Press  were  aflame  with  the  rays  of  the  sinking  sun, 
and  the  lights  along  Charles  River  Road  were  pale 
yellow  pin-points.  The  sound  of  oarlocks  caught 
their  ears  and  they  paused  and  leaned  over  the  rail. 
A  crew  was  swinging  its  way  up  stream,  the  eight 
backs  rising  and  falling  in  unison.  The  shell  shot 
under  the  bridge,  followed  an  instant  later  by  the 
launch.  At  the  bow  of  the  latter  the  coach  knelt 
on  one  knee,  crimson  megaphone  at  mouth,  shouting 
unintelligible  things.  In  the  wake  the  waves 
lapped  the  shingle  softly.  Off  the  university  boat- 


62  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

house  the  rowers  ceased  and  let  the  shell  run,  turn- 
ing widely  through  the  darkening  water,  followed 
by  the  puffing  launch.  Phillip  drew  a  long  breath. 
He  wanted  to  quote  poetry  but  could  think  of 
nothing. 

Guy  hummed  softly. 

Chester  lighted  a  cigarette. 

"That  was  Laurence  at  Four,"  he  said. 

Farther  on  Phillip  turned  and  remarked  in  the 
manner  of  one  who  has  reached  a  conclusion  after 
long  deliberation: 

"  I  think  I  should  like  to  row." 

Chester  laughed;  Guy,  however,  nodded  approv- 
ingly. 

"  Your  ambition  does  you  credit,"  he  said  gravely. 
"'Aim  high  and  fall  soft'  is  an  excellent  motto." 

Phillip  wondered  what  he  meant. 

Among  John  North's  mail  the  next  morning  was 
a  letter  which  he  read  twice  and  then  handed  to 
David.  It  was  signed  Phillip  Scott  Ryerson,  and 
had  occasioned  the  writer  much  thought,  many 
sheets  of  paper  and  some  two  hours  to  compose.  It 
was  as  follows : 
"DEAR  MR.  NORTH: 

"  I  hardly  know  how  to  approach  the  subject  upon 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  63 

which  I  wish  to  address  you.  Please  believe  that 
the  whole  thing  was  a  most  unfortunate  mistake. 
I  allude  to  the  call  you  were  so  kind  as  to  pay  me  on 
Wednesday  afternoon  last.  I  did  not  knov/  who 
you  were.  You  will  say  that  that  was  no  one's  fault 
but  my  own,  and  you  are  right.  .  And  even  as  it 
was,  not  knowing  who  you  were  and  believing  you 
to  be  a  proctor,  I  had  no  right  to  act  in  such  an 
impolite"  (the  word  was  erased)  " ungentlemanly 
manner.  The  only  excuse  I  have  to  offer  is  that  I 
was  much  out  of  temper  when  you  called  owing  to 
a  dispute,  part  of  which  you  witnessed,  with  an 
expressman  who  wanted  to  overcharge  me  for  bring- 
ing my  baggage  from  the  city  and  placing  it  in  my 
rooms. 

"I  had  looked  forward  with  great  pleasure  to 
meeting  you,  especially  since  my  mother  and 
Mr.  Corliss  had  hoped  so  much  of  my  being 
acquainted  with  you  during  my  freshman  year,  and 
cannot  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am  that  I  should  have 
received  you  so  rudely,  even  though,  as  I  do  hope 
you  will  believe,  I  did  not  know  who  you  were  when 
you  called.  I  hope  you  will  accept  my  apology 
and,  if  you  can,  forgive  my  rudeness.  I  have  no 
right  to  ask  you  to  call  again,  but  if  you  can  forget 


64  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

what  happened  on  Wednesday  last  I  wish  you  would 
allow  me  to  see  you.  I  only  know  two  fellows  here 
and  have  thought  of  you  as  a  friend  all  along,  hearing 
Mr.  Corliss  speak  of  you,  and  my  mother  having 
been  so  pleased  at  the  idea  of  my  meeting  you, 
and  hope  you  will  overlook  my  discourtesy  of  last 
Wednesday. 

"Hoping  to  have  a  reply  from  you,  and  with 
earnest  apologies, 

"Respectfully, 
"PHILLIP  SCOTT  RYERSON." 

David  handed  back  the  letter  with  a  grunt  and 
looked  up  at  John. 

"Well?  "he  asked. 

"Well?"  echoed  John. 

"Oh,  if  you  ask  me,  I  think  you'd  better  forgive 
and  forget." 

"That  of  course,"  replied  the  other.  "The  fact 
is,  Davy,  I  made  up  my  mind  yesterday  to  look  him 
up  again.  After  all,  it  wasn't  altogether  the  boy's 
fault.  And  .the  weather  Wednesday  was  beastly. 
But  what  do  you  think  of  the  epistle?" 

"Why,  it  sounds  sincere,  Johnnie,  in  spite  of  a 
certain — er — involution. ' ' 

"Yes;  I  believe  the  boy's  the  right  sort  after  all, 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  65 

Davy.  Who  knows  but  what  we'll  be  able  to  do 
something  with  him  yet?" 

"We/" 

"  I  meant  to  say  I." 

"I  wish,"  growled  David  severely,  "that  you 
would  break  yourself,  Johnnie,  of  the  growing  habit 
of  seeking  to  involve  me  in  your  kindergarten  duties 
and  difficulties.  I  have  troubles  of  my  own." 

"Well,  anyhow,"  remarked  John,  as  he  picked  up 
a  book  and  pulled  his  cap  on,  "I'm  glad  that  I'd 
decided  to  try  him  again  before  the  letter  came.  It 
eases  my  conscience." 

"Your  what?"  gasped  David. 

"Conscience.  Wait  until  you  get  into  the  foster- 
mother  business,  Davy,  and  you'll  develop  one 
yourself.  And  besides,  there's  not  only  the  boy  to 
think  of,  but — Margaret." 

"Who's  Margaret?"  asked  David  suspiciously. 

"That,  my  friend,"  replied  John  amiably,  as  he 
passed  out,  "is  none  of  your  business.' 


CHAPTER  V 

JOHN  NORTH  was  one  of  the  busiest  men  in 
college.  He  was  taking  all  the  studies  that  he  could 
manage,  was  a  member  of  nine  clubs  and  held  office 
in  four  of  them,  as  head  of  a  club  table  was  respon- 
sible for  the  dietary  welfare  of  ten  gluttonous  seniors, 
and  had  now  undertaken  the  duties  of  a  football 

coach.     But  the  time  and  trouble  entailed  by  the 

i 

latter  position  he  did  not  begrudge.  "  He  had  played 
football  for  three  seasons,  and  he  realized  that  to 
withdraw  entirely  from  gridiron  affairs  and  hope  to 
be  contented  was  out  of  the  question.  Therefore 
he  was  glad  of  the  opportunity  afforded  him  as  an 
assistant  coach  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  sport  and 
to  be  of  assistance  to  the  association,  without,  how- 
ever, being  required  to  give  all  his  time  to  the  game. 
Phillip's  letter  reached  him  Saturday  morning, 
but,  what  with  one  duty  and  another,  it  was  Sunday 
afternoon  before  he  found  opportunity  to  pay  his 
second  call  on  that  penitent.  David  flatly  refused 
to  accompany  him,  and  so,  shortly  after  lunch,  he 

66 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  67 

set  forth  alone.  The  front  door  was  open  and  the 
drab-hued  house  was  filled  with  the  depressing 
silence  of  a  New  England  Sabbath.  Or  so  it  appeared 
until  John  had  mounted  the  stairs  and  had  reached 
the  hall  above.  Then  he  paused  and  listened  with 
a  perplexed  frown.  From  behind  the  door  of 
Phillip's  study  came  sounds  not  dissimilar  to  those 
which  had  greeted  him  on  the  occasion  of  his  pre- 
vious visit — the  sound  of  tramping,  of  a  chair  over- 
turned, with  now  and  then  a  shout. 

"  Great  Scott ! "  muttered  John,  "  he's  at  it  again  ! " 

But  this  time  his  knock  brought  a  more  hospitable 
response  and  he  entered  upon  a  different  scene. 
Phillip,  coatless,  disheveled,  panting,  stared  at  him 
from  one  end  of  the  room,  while  at  the  other  a  black- 
and-white  setter  dropped  the  glove  it  had  held  in  its 
mouth  and  observed  him  with  a  merry  and  inquiring 
eye.  Phillip,  recognizing  the  caller,  coloured  during 
a  moment  of  hesitation,  and  then  advanced  to  meet 
him. 

"  Good -evening,  sir.  It's  very  kind  of  you  to 
call,"  he  said  with  some  embarrassment. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  John.  They  shook  hands. 
"  I  got  your  note  yesterday  morning  and  would  have 
been  around  before,  but  couldn't  find  a  moment  to 


68  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

spare.  The  fact  is,  Ryerson,  I  was  going  to  come, 
anyhow,  before  I  heard  from  you.  It  was  awfully 
idiotic  of  me  to  lose  my  temper  the  other  day;  I'm 
not  usually  so  crabbed.  I  think  it  must  have  been 
the  weather." 

"It's  good  of  you  to  put  it  that  way,"  said  Phillip, 
"but  of  course  it  was  all  my  fault.  I'm  very  sorry 
about  it,  honestly,  and — 

"  Nonsense,"  interrupted  John.  "  Let's  forget  the 
whole  silly  affair  and  start  fresh.  I  hope  we'll 
become  good  friends,  Ryerson,  and  I  shall  be  very 
glad  to  do  anything  I  can  for  you.  George  Corliss, 
who  wrote  to  me  about  you,  is  an  old  friend  of  the 
family  and  a  chap  I  owe  several  favours  to;  a 
thoroughly  good  fellow  all  through.  Have  you 
known  him  long?" 

"Ever  since  I  can  remember,"  answered  Phillip. 
"  He  and  father  knew  each  other  very  well.  I  think 
they  were  related  very  distantly.  Since  father's 
death  he  has  been  mighty  good  to  us  and  has  taken 
a  heap  of  trouble." 

John  had  seated  himself  in  a  comfortable  Morris 
chair  that  still  smelled  of  the  factory,  and  now  he 
examined  the  room  with  interest  and  some  surprise. 
Plainly  his  new  acquaintance  didn't  intend  to  deny 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  69 

himself  comforts.  The  apartment  was  filled  with 
new  furnishings,  most  of  which,  as  John  surmised, 
had  probably  been  expensive.  There  were  even 
new  pictures  on  the  walls  and  new  drapings  at  the 
windows  and  at  the  door  into  the  bedroom  beyond. 
He  tried  to  reconcile  this  with  what  Corliss  had 
written  him  in  regard  to  the  family's  financial  con- 
dition and  was  puzzled. 

"You  have  very  comfortable  quarters  here,"  he 
said.  "I  like  these  old-fashioned  rooms  with  the 
overhead  beams  and  the  deep -set  windows.  They're 
so  quiet  and  restful  and  homelike.  Some  of  the 
new  dormitories  are  wonders,  but  I  doubt  if  shower- 
baths  and  swimming-tanks  and  reading-rooms  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  modern  conveniences  quite  make 
up  for  the  atmosphere  that  you  miss." 

"I'd  like  to  see  some  of  those  places  you  speak 
of,"  said  Phillip.  "I  reckon  they  must  be  mighty 

fine." 

"  They  are.     Some  evening  we'll  go  around  and 

call  on  some  sybarites  of  my  acquaintance  in 
Westmorley  and  Claverly.  There's  Pete  Broom, 
for  instance ;  he  and  another  chap  have  three  rooms 
and  a  bath,  with  hot  water  heat  and  telephone 
service  and  porcelain  tubs  and  Heaven  only  knows 


70  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

what  else !  It's  all  very  beautiful  and  stupendous, 
but  the  idea  of  wearing  ordinary  clothes  and  smoking 
a  pipe  there  is  absolutely  incongruous.  Why,  they 
ought  to  drape  themselves  in  purple  and  gold  and 
fine  linen  and  sit  all  day  on  silken  cushions.  No, 
something  of  this  sort  suits  me  better.  I  like  a  room 
where  the  paint's  scraped  off  in  places  and  where 
the  window  catches  don't  always  catch  and  where 
you  feel  that  some  one  has  lived  before  you  and 
gone  through  what  you're  going  through.  But 
then  it's  all  a  matter  of  taste,  of  course." 

"  I  reckon  so,"  answered  Phillip.  "  I  tried  to  get 
rooms  in  the  house  where  my  father  lived  when  he 
was  here,  but  they  were  all  taken.  So  I  came  here. 
I  like  this  very  much  so  far." 

"So  your  father  was  a  Harvard  man?"  asked 
John. 

"Yes;  class  of  '67.  He  left  college  when  the  war 
broke  out  and  served  in  the  army — the  Southern 
army,  you  know."  John  nodded.  "Then  after  it 
was  over  he  came  back  and  finished  college.  He 
married  three  days  after  he  graduated,  but  his  wife 
died  less  than  a  year  later.  And  he  didn't  marry 
again  until  he  was  nearly  forty.  Mamma  says  Margey 
and  I  came  mighty  near  not  being  born,  because 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  71 

she  refused  my  father  three  times  before  she  finally 
gave  in." 

"Your  father  was  persevering,"  laughed  John. 
"Margey  is  your  sister?  Have  you  any 
brothers?" 

"No,  there's  just  Margey  and  me.  Margey  is 
two  years  older  than  I." 

"And  how  old  are  you?" 

"Nineteen  last  June.  I — I  reckon  you're  a  good 
deal  more  than  that?" 

"Twenty-four,"  answered  John.  "I  understood 
from  Corliss  that  your  mother  is  somewhat  of  an 
invalid." 

"Yes,  she's  never  been  right  well  since  I  can 
remember.  And  since  father  died  she  has  been  a 
good  deal  worse,  I  fear." 

"I  can  understand  that,"  answered  John.  "And 
of  course  the  care  of  such  a  big  place  as — Elaine,  is 
it? — must  be  hard  on  her." 

"Well,  she  doesn't  have  much  to  do  with  it. 
Margey  has  always  looked  after  things  ever  since 
she  was  big  enough.  She's  got  lots  of  sense,  has 
Margey.  And  then  there's  the  overseer;  he's  been 
with  us  for  about  twenty  years,  I  reckon." 

"I  see."     John  felt  something   cold   against   his 


72  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

hand  and  looked  down  to  find  the  setter  beside  him. 
"Hello,  what's  your  name?" 

"Her  name's  Tudor  Maid,"  answered  Phillip. 
"  She's  out  of  Valley  Maid  by  Tudor  Prince,  and  one 
of  the  finest  bird  dogs  in  Virginia.  She's  getting 
pretty  old,  though,  now;  she's  eleven.  I  just 
couldn't  bear  to  give  her  up  and  so  I  brought  her 
along  with  me.  She's  having  a  mighty  dull  time  of 
it,  though,  I  reckon;  aren't  you,  girl?  I  take  her 
out  for  walks  whenever  I  can,  but  somehow  I  don't 
seem  to  be  able  to  find  much  time  for  walking." 

"Well,  what  do  you  say  to  taking  a  tramp  now?" 
asked  John.  "It's  a  fine  afternoon  and  I  usually 
try  to  get  out  on  Sunday ;  and  it'll  give  the  dog  a  run." 

"I  should  like  to  go  very  much,"  answered  Phillip 
eagerly.  "That  is,  if — if  you  weren't  going  with 
some  one  else?" 

"No,  I  thought  perhaps  I  could  entice  you  along. 
Get  your  cap."  He  arose  and,  while  Phillip  was 
putting  on  his  coat  and  finding  hat  and  gloves, 
strolled  over  to  the  mantel.  Above  it  was  a  nice 
arrangement  of  spurs,  crops,  whips  and  bridles 
centering  about  a  really  good  hunting  picture.  But 
John  wasn't  looking  for  such  things;  instead  he 
examined  attentively  the  long  row  of  photographs 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  73 

that  lined  the  wall  beneath  and  which  he  had 
noticed  from  his  chair.  There  were  two  portraits 
of.  a  middle-aged  gentleman  whom  John  surmised 
to  be  the  Phillip  Ryerson  who  had  fought  in  the 
duel ;  another  of  the  same  person,  taken  at  an  earlier 
age,  in  the  dress  of  a  Southern  captain  of  cavalry ;  a 
portrait  of  a  sweet-faced,  rather  delicate  woman  of 
about  fifty;  an  assortment  of  photographs  of  more 
or  less  uninteresting  looking  persons  of  both  sexes ; 
and  then  one  which  John  took  from  its  place  and 
observed  intently,  while  a  little  smile  curved  his 
lips.  He  was  still  looking  at  it  when  Phillip  returned 
from  the  bedroom  attired  for  the  walk. 

"Who's  this,  Ryerson?"  he  asked. 

"That's  Margey — my  sister,  you  know.  It's  not 
good  of  her." 

"You  look  alike,  all  of  you,"  said  John,  returning 
the  picture  slowly  to  its  place.  "You're  a  good- 
looking  lot,  you  Ryersons." 

"They  say  my  mother  was  the  handsomest  woman 
in  our  county  when  she  married,"  answered  Phillip 
with  pride.  "And  father  was  handsome,  too,  I 
think.  But  Margey  and  I  aren't  much  on  looks;  I 
reckon  we're  just  powerful  good,"  he  added,  laughing. 

"Well,  I  won't  throw  compliments  at  you,"  said 


74  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

John,  "but  your  sister's  a  beauty,  in  my  opinion. 
All  ready?" 

They  descended  the  stairs,  preceded  by  Tudor 
Maid,  who  took  the  flight  in  four  hilarious  bounds 
and  waited  for  them  at  the  gate  wriggling  from  nose 
to  tail  with  delight.  It  was  an  ideal  autumn  day, 
with  a  clear  sky  and  just  enough  breeze  to  bring  the 
golden  and  bronze  and  crimson  leaves  fluttering 
down  from  the  trees  that  lined  Mount  Auburn 
Street,  and  enough  sparkle  in  the  air  to  lend  spring 
to  the  tread  of  the  two  as  they  paced  briskly  along. 
John  was  a  veritable  bureau  of  information,  and 
Phillip  had  a  boy's  healthy  curiosity  regarding 
everything  that  hinted  of  interest.  In  front  of 
Longfellow  Park  they  crossed  the  little  border  of 
turf  and  shrubbery  and  stood  upon  a  narrow  beach 
left  by  the  receding  tide.  Phillip  tossed  bits  of 
stone  into  the  river  and  Maid  barked  wildly  and  was 
always  on  the  point  of  plunging  in  after  them,  but 
never  did.  To  their  right  the  stream  began  its  long 
curve,  its  surface  agleam  with  flecks  and  points  of 
sunlight  that  dazzled  the  eyes.  Across,  the  broad 
meadow  stretched  before  them,  a  bare  expanse  of 
golden  russet.  Beyond  that  was  the  river  again, 
and  then  the  wooded  promontory  crowned  with  its 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  75 

tower  and  sprinkled  with  marble  monuments  that 
glistened  snow-white  in  the  sunlight. 

"That's  the  cemetery,  isn't  it?"  asked  Phillip. 

"Yes,  Mount  Auburn.  If  Davy  was  with  us — 
Davy's  my  roommate — he'd  drag  us  up  there  and 
lead  us  about  amongst  tombstones  and  vaults  and 
be  utterly  happy.  When  Davy  visits  Mount  Auburn 
I  know  that  he  is  feeling  unusually  cheerful.  I 
don't  trust  him  up  there  alone  any  more,  though, 
because  he  went  one  day  last  spring  and  fell  asleep 
on  somebody's  grave  and  came  near  being  arrested. 
It  got  into  the  papers  and  we  called  him  The  Ghoul 
for  some  time.  The  Traveler  got  hold  of  it  and 
printed  a  funny  story  of  it  with  a  startling  heading 
in  big,  black  letters;  'Harvard  Student's  Grave 
Offense.'  I  don't  believe  Davy  has  been  up  there 
since." 

They  left  the  river  and  passed  upward  through 
the  park  to  Brattle  Street,  Phillip  turning  again  and 
again  for  another  view  of  the  winding  river. 

"Cambridge  is  beautiful,  isn't  it?"  he  asked 
softly. 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  answered  John,  "although  there 
are  those  who  pretend  to  think  otherwise.  At 
least,  it  is  full  of  beautiful  spots,  and  one  can  forgive 


76  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  squalidness  of  other  portions  of  the  city  because 
of  them.  To  my  mind  Brattle  .Street  is  one  of  the 
loveliest  streets  in  the  world,  and  it's  never  as  lovely 
as  it  is  at  this  season." 

They  crossed  the  road  and  peered  in  through  the 
gate  at  the  poet's  house,  and  John,  in  the  role  of 
guide,  recited  the  customary  catalogue  of  dates  and 
facts. 

"I  shan't  repeat  'The  Day  is  Done,'  however,"  he 
said,  "although  it  is  really  the  proper  thing  to  do. 
I  wonder  how  many  persons  have  stood  here  and 
murmured  soulfully ! 

"  'I  see  the  lights  of  the  village 

Break  through  the  rain  and  the  mist.'  " 

"But  that  isn't  right!"  protested  Phillip.  And 
so  he  recited  the  poem  himself,  prompted  here  and 
there  by  John,  and  ended  to  find  the  latter  observing 
him  quizzically. 

"One  more,  Ryerson,"  he  said.  "Don't  blush; 
you  did  it  well,  with  just  the  right  amount  of 
repressed  feeling.  And  besides,  you  couldn't  help 
it;  everybody  does  it;  it's  a — a  sort  of  fatality.  I 
went  by  here  one  day  and  found  five  Radcliffe  girls 
murmuring  it  in  unison,  their  eyes  fixed  mournfully 
upon  the  river  and  meadow." 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  77 

But  Phillip  was  embarrassed  by  the  other's  good- 
natured  raillery  and  turned  away  and  stared  at  the 
dignified  old  mansion  sunning  its  well-preserved 
timbers  up  there  on  the  terrace.  Presently  he  said 
with  something  of  awe  in  his  voice: 

"Just  think !  Washington  himself  may  have 
walked  down  this  graveled  path  and  through  this 
gate!" 

"Yes,"  answered  John,  "he  probably  did.  I've 
always  thought  I'd  like  to  have  known  Washington. 
I  don't  believe  he  was  the  straight-laced  old  prig 
that  the  school  histories  try  to  make  out.  Between 
you  and  me,  Ryerson,  I  fancy  he  was  a  regular  old 
sport.  Look  at  the  way  he  could  swear !  Why,  he 
could  give  cards  and  spades  to  a  Nantucket  skipper  ! 
The  only  really  reprehensible  thing  that  I  can  lay 
at  his  door,"  continued  John,  as  they  turned  and 
took  up  their  walk,  "is  the  way  in  which  he  estab- 
lished headquarters.  I  believe  that  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  that  weakness  of  his  we'd  have  licked 
England  long  before  we  did.  Consider  the  time  he 
must  have  wasted.  He  was  as  bad  as  that  old 
English  queen — was  it  Bess? — that  used  to  go 
through  the  country  sleeping  in  people's  beds  for 
them." 


78  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"There  are  a  lot  of  Washington's  headquarters," 
acknowledged  Phillip. 

"I  should  say  so.  I  can  imagine  the  Trenton 
Patriot  coming  out  with  something  like  this :  '  Word 
has  been  received  from  Philadelphia  that  Gen. 
George  Washington  will  arrive  in  our  midst  on 
Thursday  of  next  week  for  the  purpose  of  establish- 
ing headquarters  here.  It  will  be  a  gala  occasion  in 
the  history  of  our  prosperous  town  and  it  is  antici- 
pated that  all  patriotic  citizens  for  miles  around 
will  attend.  The  Stage  Line  will  make  extra  trips 
and  has  offered  a  special  rate  of  one  and  one- third 
regular  fare.  During  the  afternoon  the  ladies  of  the 
Front  Street  Methodist  Church  will  serve  refresh- 
ments in  the  old  Armory  Building  on  Main  Street. 
Come  one,  come  all.' ' 

Phillip  laughed,  but  doubtfully;  John's  humour 
seemed  to  him  to  smack  of  irreverence. 

"George  Washington,"  summed  up  John,  "was 
the  Andrew  Carnegie  of  his  day." 

"He  was  a  great  man,"  said  Phillip,  his  loyalty  to 
the  Greatest  Virginian  overcoming  his  awe  of  his 
companion. 

"He  was  indeed,"  answered  John,  realizing  that 
Phillip's  sense  of  humour  did  not  extend  to  sacred 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  79 

ground.  "He  was  great  and  good  and  human,  and 
that's  a  combination  of  virtues  that  you  don't  often 
find.  I  know  of  only  one  other  American  who 
approached  him  in  goodness  and  humanity,  while 
perhaps  lacking  his  greatness." 

Phillip  looked  an  inquiry. 

"And  that  was  Lincoln,"  said  John. 

"Oh."  Phillip  dropped  his  gaze  gravely  to  the 
ground.  John  observed  him  smilingly. 

"You're  still  a  bit  of  a  rebel,  eh,  Ryerson?" 

"I  reckon  so,"  answered  Phillip.  "But  I've  heard 
my  father  say  that  Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  good 
man  and  a  brave  one,  and  that  if  he  could  have  had 
his  way  the  North  and  South  would  never  have  gone 
to  war.  But  you  can't  hardly  expect  us  to — to 
think  about  Lincoln  just  the  way  you  do  up  here, 
can  you?" 

"No,"  answered  John  gravely.  "Only  don't  be 
behind  us  in  forgiveness,  Ryerson." 

"Do  you  think  we  are?"  asked  Phillip  in  surprise. 

"A  little,  maybe." 

"But,  sir,  we  lost !" 

"True." 

"And  not  only  that,"  continued  Phillip  earnestly, 
"but  we  suffered  the  most.  The  war  left  us  almost 


8o  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

ruined  and  mighty  discouraged.  I  reckon  if  we  had 
it  to  do  over  we'd  do  it  differently;  I  mean  we'd  look 
things  in  the  face  and  get  down  to  work  without 
wasting  time  in  regretting.  But  then  we  didn't 
know  how;  we  had  never  been  taught  to  do  things 
for  ourselves,  you  know.  You  took  our  labourers 
away  from  us  and  made  them  think  they  didn't 
need  to  do  a  thing.  And  farms  just  went  to  ruin, 
and  farmers  with  them.  It  was  mighty  hard,  sir  !" 
He  paused  and  looked  with  sudden  shyness  at  John. 
"Anyhow,  that's  what  my  father  used  to  say." 

"And  he  was  just  about  right,"  John  concurred. 
"Well,  it  was  a  miserable  business,  Ryerson,  but  it 
had  to  come;  at  least,  that's  what  my  father  says," 
he  added  smilingly.  "By  the  way,  ' Ryerson' s'  a 
bit  formal,  and  I  think  I'll  call  you  Phillip  if  you 
don't  mind." 

"I'd  rather  you  called  me  Phil;  most  everybody 
does." 

"All  right.  And  my  name's  John,  but  never 
Jack.  I've  always  detested  'Jack'  for  some  reason 
or  other.  And  if  you  can  manage  to  leave  out  the 
'sir'  I'd  like  it  better." 

"I'll  try,"  laughed  Phillip.  "It's  a  way  we  have 
in  the  South,  you  know;  we  always  say  'sir'  and 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  81 

'ma'am.'  If  I'd  ever  addressed  father  without  the 
'sir'  I  reckon  he'd  have  worn  me  out." 

"I  see.  The  objection  I  make  to  it,"  answered 
John,  "is  that  it  makes  me  feel  like  a  grandfather. 
Now  if  you  know  anything  of  Lowell's,  here's  your 
chance,"  he  added,  as  they  halted  at  the  old  fence 
surrounding  Elmwood.  But  Phillip  refused  to  recite 
any  more,  and  after  viewing  the  tree-embowered 
house  they  turned  their  steps  homeward,  followed 
by  Maid  with  hanging  tongue.  On  the  walk  back 
the  conversation  turned  on  more  practical  matters. 
John  advised  Phillip  as  to  a  boarding-place  and  in 
other  affairs  which  had  puzzled  the  freshman. 

"I  think  one  ought  to  have  an  athletic  interest  of 
some  kind,"  said  Phillip.  "What  would  you  advise  ?" 

"How  about  football?"  asked  John,  running  his 
eye  over  the  other's  wiry  frame.  But  Phillip  shook 
his  head  dolefully. 

"I've  tried  that,  but  I'm  no  good.  I  went  out 
for  the  freshman  team  and  yesterday  after  practice 
they  told  me  I  was  in  Squad  E,  and  Chester  Baker 
says  I  might  as  well  be  in  the  river." 

"That's  not  promising,"  said  John.  "You'd 
better  join  one  of  the  scrub  teams  and  get  used  to 
the  game  that  way.  Then  next  year  you'll  stand 


82  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

more  of  a  chance.  And  if  I  were  you  I'd  go  over  to 
the  gym  pretty  regularly  and  use  the  chest  weights ; 
you  look  as  though  you'd  stand  rather  more  develop- 
ment in  the  upper  part  of  the  body  than  you've  got. 
Have  you  ever  tried  running  ?" 

Phillip  shook  his  head. 

"You  might  go  in  for  that;  any  fellow  that  can 
show  speed  and  staying  power  has  a  good  chance  to 
distinguish  himself." 

"I  think -I'd  like  to  row,"  hazarded  Phillip. 

"You'll  have  to  develop  your  muscles  a  bit  first. 
Join  a  class,  Phil,  and  keep  at  it ;  it  will  do  you  a  lot 
of  good  even  if  it  doesn't  get  you  a  place  in  a  boat. 
But  there's  no  hurry  about  athletics ;  you've  got  four 
years  ahead  of  you ;  you'll  find  what  you're  looking 
for  after  a  bit." 

"And  there's  another  thing,"  said  Phillip.  "Chester 
and  Guy  Bassett  and  all  the  fellows  I've  met  belong 
to  clubs." 

"Well,  join  the  Union;  that's  enough  for  awhile. 
Later  you  had  better  get  into  the  Southern  Club. 
The  fact  is,  Phil,  clubs  are  expensive  things,  and 
unless  you  really  feel  the  need  of  them  you'd  much 
better  save  your  money.  As  for  the  best  ones,  the 
ones  that  count ,  there's  no  way  of  breaking  into 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  83 

them;  you've  got  to  qualify,  as  it  were;  they  come 
to  you  if  they  want  you." 

"And — and  one  more  thing,"  said  Phillip,  after 
a  moment  of  hesitation. 

"Fire  away,"  replied  John  cheerfully. 

"Thank  you.  Last  night  I  went  into  a  theatre 
with  Chester  Baker  and  Guy  Bassett  and  two  other 
fellows.  Well,  Chester  asked  if  I  wanted  to  go  and 
I  said  yes,  and  he  said  he'd  get  a  ticket  for  me ;  and 
he  did.  Now,  what  I  want  to  know  is,  did  he  mean 
that  I  was  to  pay  for  my  ticket  or  was  it  his  treat  ?" 

"Well,"  laughed  John,  "I'm  hanged  if  I  know. 
But  a  pretty  good  rule  to  follow  is,  pay  your  own 
way." 

"And  if  Chester  really  meant  that  I  was  his  guest 
would  he  be  offended  if  I  offered  to  pay  him  for  the 
ticket  ?"  asked  Phillip  anxiously. 

John's  face  showed  a  glimmer  of  amusement  as 
he  answered  soberly:  "I  don't  think  he  would,  Phil. 
On  the  whole,  I  believe  I'd  make  the  offer." 

"Thank  you.  I  will,"  he  answered  simply.  They 
had  turned  into  Garden  Street,  and  now  John  pointed 
dramatically  to  a  decrepit  elm  tree  that  stood, 
shorn  of  most  of  its  branches,  within  a  little  iron- 
fenced  enclosure. 


84  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  'Under  this  tree  Washington  took  command — '  ' 

But  Phillip  had  already  left  him  and  was  reading 
the  inscription  on  the  stone  tablet  with  devoted 
eyes.  Then  he  looked  upward  at  the  once  sturdy 
monarch  and  about  him  as  though  impressing  the 
scene  upon  his  memory. 

"I  want  to  write  Margey  about  it,"  he  explained 
as  John  joined  him. 

"I  see."  John's  eyes  followed  Phillip's,  and  the 
scene,  to  his  surprise,  took  on  new  values.  He 
began  to  wonder  how,  if  he  were  going  to  write 
Margey,  he  would  describe  it.  Really,  it  was  an 
interesting  old  stump  when  you  came  to  think 
about  it.  He  wondered  if  Phillip  would  tell  his 
sister  of  the  walk  they  had  taken  and  whether  his 
name  would  be  mentioned;  and  if  it  was,  what  sort 
of  a  person  Margey  would  imagine  him  to  be.  He 
recalled  the  features  in  the  photograph  on  Phil's 
mantel  and  hoped  that  that  youngster's  account  of 
him  would  be  the  least  bit  flattering. 

It  was  almost  five  when  they  reached  the  church 
opposite  the  college  and  John  turned  to  Phillip 
with: 

"I  say,  come  on  over  to  my  room  and  meet  Davy. 
He's  probably  asleep,  but  we  can  wake  him  up.  And 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  85 

then  I'll  take  you  to  dinner  and  you  can  see  how 
you  like  the  place." 

That  programme  was  duly  followed — even  to  the 
merciless  waking  of  David— and  Phillip  only  parted 
from  his  new  friends  when  a  clock  in  a  nearby  tower 
tolled  nine.  Then  he  walked  through  Boylston 
Street  to  his  room  feeling  very  happy,  Maid,  now 
a  quiet  and  sedate  old  lady,  following  close  at  his 
heels. 


CHAPTER  VI 

PHILLIP  struggled  into  an  old  coat,  performed 
Maid's  toilet — removed  her  collar  and  rubbed  her 
neck — and  took  up  a  book.  But  study  didn't 
appeal  to  him,  and  presently  he  turned  the  volume 
face  down  in  his  lap,  stretched  his  legs  in  front  of 
him,  clasped  his  hands  back  of  his  head  and  reviewed 
the  evening.  For  the  first  time  since  he  had  reached 
Cambridge  he  felt  that  he  really  belonged  there ;  that 
he  was  a  part  of  the  college.  Yesterday  he  had 
been  a  separate  atom  circling  around  the  outer  rim 
of  things,  occasionally  touching  other  atoms  for 
a  space,  only  to  be  borne  off  again.  To-day  he  had 
suddenly  been  drawn  into  the  vortex;  had  jostled 
and  overlapped  others  of  his  kind,  and  had,  in  fact, 
become  a  particle  in  the  coherent  body.  He  was 
sensible  of  a  certain  elation  that  bordered  on  excite- 
ment ;  he  wanted  to  tell  some  one  about  it.  To  that 
end  he  lighted  a  pipe,  seated  himself  at  the  table, 
drew  paper  and  ink  to  him  and  wrote  steadily  for 
an  hour.  The  letter  was  inscribed,  "Dear  Little 

86 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  87 

Mamma  and  Margey,"  and  in  it  he  set  forth  all  that 
had  happened  since  his  last  writing  on  Friday.  He 
told  of  the  theatre  party  of  the  previous  evening,  of 
attending  church  that  morning,  and  then  of  John 
North's  appearance  on  the  scene  and  their  walk. 

"I  wish  you  could  see  North,"  he  wrote.  "He's 
a  fine  fellow  every  way.  He's  over  six  feet  high,  I 
reckon,  with  very  broad  shoulders.  I  feel  pretty 
small  alongside  him.  But  of  course  it  isn't  his  size 
that  makes  you  like  him  so  right  away,  though  I 
reckon  that  has  something  to  do  with  it,  but  the 
way  he  looks  and  what  he  says  and  the  way  he 
does  things.  I  can't  explain  just  what  I  mean, 
although  I  know  myself.  He's  mighty  good-looking ; 
awfully  manly  and  honest ;  that  kind  of  handsome, 
you  know.  He  has  nice  dark  eyes  that  always  seem 
as  though  they  were  smiling  at  you,  and  a  straight 
nose  and  a  square  chin  that  makes  you  feel  that  you 
wouldn't  care  to  have  him  right  angry  at  you.  He 
has  a  funny,  quiet  way  of  talking,  and  you  can't  help 
feeling  that  if  you  were  in  a  fix  he's  just  the  fellow 
you'd  like  to  have  come  along.  And  of  course  he's 
awfully  smart,  only  he  isn't  the  sort  of  man  that 
tries  to  make  you  know  it.  That's  where  he's 
different  from  Guy  Bassett.  He's  not  as  handsome 


88  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

as  Bassett,  but  you  like  his  looks  better 
somehow. 

"Talking  about  looks,  mamma,  he  saw  your  photo- 
graph and  those  of  father  on  my  mantel  when  he 
was  here,  and  Margey's,  too.  He  said  'we  Ryersons' 
were  a  good-looking  lot  and — but  Margey  mustn't 
see  this  or  she'll  get  conceited — that  my  sister  was  a 
beauty.  It  sounds  kind  of  cheeky,  but  it  really 
wasn't,  the  way  he  said  it." 

Phillip  described  the  walk  to  the  extent  of  three 
pages  and  promised  to  send  a  book  of  views  which 
showed  some  of  the  places  they  had  seen.  Then, 

"I  met  his  roommate,  David  Meadowcamp;  isn't 
it  a  funny  name  ?  He's  almost  as  funny  as  his  name, 
too.  But  he  was  awfully  nice,  as  I  was  sure  he  would 
be  if  he  was  North's  friend.  He  was  all  sprawled 
out  on  a  Turkish  couch  thing  when  we  went  in  and 
North  woke  him  up  and  introduced  me.  I  was  a  bit 
uncomfortable  at  the  queer  way  he  looked  me  over, 
just  as  though  I  were  a  horse  he  was  thinking  of 
buying,  but  he  shook  hands  and  was  very  pleasant 
and  kind. 

"He  and  North  had  a  sort  of  'scrap,'  as  they  say 
here,  just  in  fun,  you  know.  I  didn't  understand 
what  it  was  about  exactly,  but  I  had  to  laugh  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  89 

see  them  falling  over  the  chairs  and  things,  for 
Meadowcamp  is  just  about  as  big  as  John  North  and 
heavier,  I  reckon.  Meadowcamp  told  North  that 
he  had  seen  an  article  in  the  Sunday  paper  on  the 
care  and  feeding  of  infants,  or  something  like  that, 
and  that  he  had  cut  it  out  and  saved  it  for  him  to 
read,  and  North  looked  kind  of  queer  and  threw  a 
book  at  Meadowcamp  and  then  they  had  it,  and 
Meadowcamp  finally  got  North  back  of  the  couch 
and  sat  on  him  and  made  him  make  all  kind  of  funny 
speeches  of  apology,  and  made  him  apologize  to 
me  for  'misbehaving  in  the  presence  of  an  honoured 
guest.' 

"They  have  splendid  rooms  and  the  study  is  full 
of  jolly  things  to  look  at.  The  walls  are  just  covered 
all  over  with  rugs  and  pictures  and  there  are  book- 
cases that  come  half-way  up  them  filled  with  expen- 
sive books.  And  North  said  I  was  to  help  myself 
whenever  I  wanted.  He  showed  me  the  pictures 
when  he  found  I  was  staring  at  them,  and  said  that 
a  lot  of  them  were  originals  by  a  fellow  named 
Remington  who  does  Indian  drawings  in  the  maga- 
zines. They  were  great.  And  there  were  a  lot  of 
water-colours  and  oil  paintings  and  a  lot  of  steins — 
those  German,  beer  mugs,  you  know — hanging  on 


9o  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

hooks.  And  I  counted  fifteen  'shingles,'  too.  A 
shingle  is  a  framed  paper,  like  the  diplomas,  saying 
that  you  belong  to  a  club  or  society.  They  must 
belong  to  a  lot. 

"They  took  me  to  dinner  at  their  boarding-place 
which  is  called  The  Inn.  North  said  that  some  of 
the  fellows  at  their  club  table  weren't  there  because 
it  was  Sunday.  Some  go  home  if  they  live  near 
here.  There  were  eight  of  us  at  table  and  I  was 
introduced  to  every  one.  They  are  all  seniors  and 
so  of  course  I  felt  rather  young  and  insignificant  at 
first.  But  everybody  acted  just  as  if  I  was  one  of 
them  and  after  awhile  I  forget  about  being  a  fresh- 
man and  talked  back.  North  told  them  that  I  was 
from  Virginia  and  was  in  college  preparing  for  the 
Presidency,  and  Meadowcamp  asked  me  to  make  him 
Secretary  of  State  when  I  was  elected,  and  that 
started  them  to  forming  a  cabinet.  North  wanted 
to  be  Secretary  of  Agriculture  because  it  was  a  nice, 
restful  position,  but  Meadowcamp  said  no,  they  would 
have  a  new  portfolio  and  make  him  Secretary  of 
Education.  North  seemed  to  think  that  was  very 
funny  and  so  did  everybody  else,  but  of  course  I 
didn't  know  what  the  joke  was.  We  had  a  fine 
dinner  and  the  walk  had  made  me  hungry  and  I  ate 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  91 

like  a  woodchopper.  North  says  I  should  go  to 
The  Inn  and  join  a  general  table  there.  I  think  I 
will,  because  the  place  that  Chester  Baker  recom- 
mended is  much  more  expensive  and  I  just  can't 
stand  the  restaurants  any  longer.  I  had  two  help- 
ings of  beef  and  two  of  rice  and  two  of  pudding. 
And  after  dinner  we  sat  around  a  long  while  and 
smoked  and  talked  about  football  and  theatres  and 
lots  of  things  that  I  didn't  know  much  about. 
When  the  fellows  said  good  night  they  most  all 
asked  me  to  come  and  see  them.  I  asked  North  if 
he  thought  they  really  meant  it  and  he  said  they 
did  and  that  I  should  go.  And  so  I  reckon  I'll 
have  to,  although  I'm  a  bit  scared. 

"When  we  went  back  to  Little's — that's  where 
North  and  Meadowcamp  room — we  pulled  easy- 
chairs  up  together  and  North  put  a  little  table  with 
pipes  and  cigars  and  tobacco  in  the  middle  and 
we  smoked  and  talked  some  more.  North  said  I 
was  to  talk  fast  so  as  to  keep  Davy — that's 
Meadowcamp — awake.  They  asked  me  a  lot  about 
Virginia  and  Elaine,  and  I  told  them  about  the 
horses  and  the  fox  hunts,  and  Meadowcamp  says  he 
is  going  to  come  down  and  spend  the  summer  with 
me.  But  of  course  that  was  just  a  joke.  And  I 


92 

am  to  be  sure  and  always  go  to  their  room  every 
Sunday  night  and  whenever  else  I  have  time.  And 
North  is  going  to  see  about  my  getting  board  at 
The  Inn.  It  is  six  dollars  a  week,  but  he  says  you 
can't  get  good  food  in  Cambridge  for  any  less, 
unless  you  go  to  Memorial  or  Randall,  and  that  if 
I  go  there  I'll  end  by  starving  to  death. 

"I  said  good-night  at  nine  o'clock  and  came  back 
to  my  room.  North  said  I  mustn't  go  so  early,  but 
I  noticed  that  Meadowcamp  was  nodding  and 
reckoned  he  wanted  to  get  to  bed.  Maid  had  a 
fine  time  to-day  when  we  went  to  walk  and  chased 
sparrows  and  things  all  the  time.  Cambridge  is 
beautiful  now  and  the  leaves  are  beginning  to  fall. 
I  wish  you  and  Margey  could  see  how  lovely  it  is. 
But  I  get  kind  of  homesick  sometimes  for  you  all 
and  Elaine.  Please  tell  Bob  to  ride  Ruby  twice  a 
week  and  to  look  after  her  feet  well.  I  will  write 
again  soon.  With  heaps  of  love, 

"  PHIL." 

Phillip  found  his  days  fully  occupied.  He  attended 
chapel  every  morning,  at  first  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
but  afterward  because  he  liked  it  and  felt  somehow 
better  prepared  for  what  the  day  was  to  bring. 
One  morning  he  encountered  Guy  Bassett  on 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  93 

the  steps  and  gave  voice  to  the  surprise  he 
looked : 

' '  Good-morning ;  I  didn't  expect ' '  He  paused 

confusedly.  Guy  smiled. 

"Didn't  expect  to  see  me  here?"  he  asked.  "I 
fear  you're  a  Pharisee,  Ryerson.  I'm  usually  at 
prayers.  I  find  it  rather  interesting;  not  exciting, 
you  understand,  but  mildly  interesting.  And  then, 
I  think  I'm  better  for  it  all  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"Yes,"  said  Phillip,  "so  do  I." 

"I've  paced  it  off  and  have  found  that  the  distance 
from  my  room  to  chapel  and  from  chapel  to  my 
boarding  house  is  just  over  the  half-mile.  Half 
a  mile  is  about  the  proper  distance  for  a  morning 
walk.  I  tried  going  to  the  Common  and  back  at 
first,  but  as  that  involved  viewing  that  extremely 
hideous  soldiers'  monument  I  had  to  give  it  up. 
After  that  the  chapel  was  really  the  only  objective 
point  that  was  the  right  distance.  Besides,  I  fancy 
it  lends  one  a  certain  amount  of  distinction." 

When  Phillip,  in  the  course  of  a  conversation 
with  Chester,  incidentally  mentioned  having  been 
to  morning  prayers,  the  latter  was  genuinely 
astonished. 

"But  you  have  to  get  up  so  early  !"  he  exclaimed. 


94  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"And  then  I  should  think  you'd  feel  frightfully 
lonely." 

"Well,  seeing  that  the  place  is  generally  pretty 
well  filled " 

"Really?  I  shall  have  to  try  it  some  morning 
when  I  can't  sleep." 

"'Bloody  Monday  Night"  was  a  dire  disappoint- 
ment to  Phillip.  After  marching  about  the  yard 
arm  in  arm  with  Chester  and  Guy  for  the  better  part 
of  half  an  hour,  cheering  defiantly  for  his  class,  the 
subsequent  shoving  and  jostling,  in  which  the  most 
glorious  thing  that  befell  him  was  the  loss  of  his 
cap,  was  distinctly  unsatisfying.  He  went  home 
feeling  rather  aggrieved,  in  the  mood  of  one  who 
has  seen  an  ideal  shattered. 

There  was  another  visit  to  the  theatre  about  this 
time.  He  and  Chester  witnessed  the  performance 
of  a  sensational  melodrama,  which  Chester  subse- 
quently re-enacted  for  his  benefit  on  the  platform 
of  the  Boylston  Street  Station  of  the  subway,  to 
the  intense  interest  of  several  score  of  dignified 
citizens  of  Cambridge  and  the  Back  Bay.  Phillip 
paid  his  half  of  the  expenses  without  questioning, 
having  discovered  that  Chester's  theatre  parties 
were  invariably  Dutch  treats.  And  about  the  same 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  95 

time  Phillip  awoke  to  the  fact  that  there  was  a 
well-developed  skeleton  in  his  closet  which,  for 
want  of  a  better  name,  might  have  been  called 
Pecuniary  Embarrassment.  Expenses  came  thick 
and  fast.  He  purchased  a  new  suit  of  brown  tweed 
cut  in  the  prevailing  mode,  with  a  short  jacket 
having  a  stunning  plait  and  belt,  and  a  pair  of 
trousers  surprisingly  generous  at  the  back.  A 
dress  suit  followed  this,  and  some  shirts  in  blue  and 
pink  and  green  effects,  a  crimson  cap  and  several 
pairs  of  wonderful  socks.  Then  he  made  the  start- 
ling discovery  one  morning  that  he  was  the  only 
fellow  at  a  recitation  who  wore  high  shoes.  At 
noon  he  went  to  a  shop  on  the  avenue  and  purchased 
a  pair  of  low  ones  with  very  extended  soles.  He 
caught  a  violent  cold  the  first  day  he  wore  them — 
which  happened  to  be  wet  and  raw — but  persisted 
and  suffered  in  the  cause  of  fashion  for  a  week. 
When  he  had  to  stay  in  his  room  for  the  whole  of 
one  day  and  take  medicine,  he  consoled  himself  with 
the  knowledge  that,  even  as  an  invalid,  he  was  attired 
in  the  mode. 

He  joined  the  Union,  bought  an  H.  A.  A.  ticket 
and  rented  a  locker  at  the  Newell  Boat  Club.  As 
he  had  nothing  with  which  to  grace  the  locker  he 


96  THE   LAND   OF    JOY 

purchased  a  pair  of  rowing-trunks  and  a  shirt  and 
promised  himself  a  place  in  a  freshman  crew.  Mean- 
while he  had  joined  a  freshman  club  table  at  The 
Inn  and  was  living  very  satisfactorily.  But  six 
dollars  a  week,  payable  monthly,  caused  the  skeleton 
to  rattle  noisily.  His  connection  with  the  table 
had  come  about  as  the  result  of  an  advertisement  in 
the  Crimson.  He  had  interviewed  the  fellow  who 
was  getting  it  up  and  had  learned  the  names  of 
those  who  had  already  joined.  He  had  conferred 

• 

with  John  North,  and  the  latter  had  advised  him  to 
cast  in  his  lot  with  the  freshmen  rather  than  to  go 
to  the  general  table,  where,  as  John  delicately 
explained,  freshmen  weren't  popular.  The  Inn 
was  not  particularly  handy  to  his  rooms,  but  John 
insisted  that  the  walk  there  and  back  several  times 
daily  would  do  him  good. 

There  were  nine  other  fellows  at  the  table  and, 
with  the  exceptions  of  Phillip  and  a  man  named 
Kingsford,  all  had  prepared  at  the  same  school  and 
were  naturally  somewhat  clannish.  But  when  a 
week  had  passed  the  two  outsiders  were  accepted 
by  the  others,  rather  patronizingly,  to  be  sure,  but 
still  unreservedly,  and  Phillip  found  himself  amongst 
a  congenial  and  thoroughly  nice  set.  It  did  not 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  97 

occur  to  him  to  feel  any  surprise  at  his  admission 
any  more  than  when  Chester  Baker  had  so  uncon- 
ventionally scraped  acquaintance  in  the  Yard. 
But  later  on  he  discovered  that  he  would  never  have 
been  privileged  to  fill  the  vacancy  had  not  his 
friendship  with  John  North  served  as  a  guarantee. 
Kingsford  had  been  admitted  simply  because  he 
was  one  of  the  Marlborough  Street  Kingsfords  and 
must  of  necessity  be  desirable,  on  the  principle  that 
the  King  can  do  no  wrong. 

During  that  first  week  of  polite  ostracism  Phillip 
and  Everett  Kingsford  got  to  know  each  other 
thoroughly.  Phillip  felt  uncomfortable  at  times 
when  the  conversation  at  table  veered  to  subjects 
outside  his  experience  and  emphasized  his  aloofness, 
but  Kingsford  found  only  amusement  in  the  situation. 

"It's  funny,"  he  confided  one  day,  "how  those 
chaps  think  that  no  one  who  hasn't  been  to  school  at 
Milton  can  be  quite  correct.  They  put  up  with  me 
because  they  have  been  brought  up  to  consider  a 
Boston  Kingsford  one  of  the  elect,  but  it's  easy  to  be 
seen  that,  try  as  they  may,  they  can't  help  looking 
down  on  me  a  bit.  And  the  most  amusing  thing 
about  it  is  the  really  generous  and  charitable  way 
in  which  they  all  strive  to  conceal  it." 


98  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Despite  the  fact  that  his  waking  hours  were 
pretty  well  filled,  Phillip  pined  for  other  fields  in 
which  to  win  distinction.  At  Chester's  advice  he 
had  become  a  subscriber  to  the  Crimson,  and  every 
morning  he  read  the  calls  for  candidates  for  one 
thing  and  another  and  tried  to  find  some  line  of 
action  that  appealed  to  him.  For  a  week  he  was 
undecided  whether  to  try  for  the  Rifle  and  Pistol  Club, 
the  Lacrosse  Team  or  the  Pierian  Sodality.  Later 
he  gave  up  thoughts  of  the  latter  because  the  only 
instrument  he  could  play  was  a  jewsharp,  and  he 
discovered  that  for  some  reason  jewsharps  were 
not  included  in  the  orchestra.  Inquiries  elicited 
the  disappointing  information  that  if  he  joined  the 
Lacrosse  Team  he  could  not  hope  to  take  part  in  a 
game  before  mid  spring,  and  he  relinquished  the 
idea  of  gaining  glory  in  that  sport.  That  left  only 
the  Rifle  and  Pistol  Club  under  consideration,  and 
it  is  probable  that  he  would  have  tried  there  had 
he  not  found  a  notice  one  day  calling  for  candidates 
for  the  Shooting  Club.  Phillip  rather  prided  himself 
on  his  ability  with  the  shotgun,  and  so  attended  a 
meeting  in  Claverly  one  Wednesday  night  and  was 
duly  enrolled  as  a  member. 

He  had  not  given  up  hope  of  gaining  a  place  in 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  99 

one  of  the  crews,  but  John  had  advised  against  it 
for  the  present  and  so  he  put  off  the  attempt.  He 
joined  a  class  at  the  gymnasium  and  went  there 
every  Monday,  Wednesday  and  Friday  afternoons 
and  did  strange  things  with  chest  weights,  dumb- 
bells, Indian  clubs,  ladders  and  bars,  and  had  aches 
in  all  sorts  of  out-of-the-way  corners  of  his  body. 
But  he  measured  and  remeasured  his  chest  and 
biceps  and  found,  to  his  delight,  that  he  was  rapidly 
increasing  the  girth  of  both. 

Squad  E  had  not  yet  been  called  to  the  field,  and 
Phillip  realized  that  his  chance  of  playing  on  the 
Freshman  Football  Team  that  year  was  not  worth 
considering.  Guy  Bassett  had  been  taken  onto  the 
second  squad  and  was  distinguishing  himself  there. 
But  Chester,  like  Phillip,  was  quite  out  of  it  and  they 
bemoaned  their  fate  together. 

The  freshman  reception  came  off,  and  Phillip  and 
Chester  went  to  Saunders  Theatre  and  heard  much 
excellent  talk  and  shook  hands  with  a  great  many 
persons  whose  names  they  could  not  recall  after- 
ward and  whom  they  were  practically  certain  never 
to  meet  again.  Later,  in  the  transept,  they  came 
across  Guy  Bassett  wearing  an  expression  of  lively 
interest.  He  was  in  conversation  with  an  earnest 


ioo  THE   LAND    OF  JOY 

and  thin-faced  man  whose  clothes  looked  several 
sizes  too  large  for  him.  As  they  passed  Guy  called 
to  them  and  introduced  his  companion.  They  didn't 
understand  his  name;  it  sounded  like  "Mr.  Mumu- 
mum."  Later  they  learned  that  Guy  didn't  know 
it  himself. 

"We  have  been  talking  about  the  Christian  Club," 
said  Guy,  "and " 

"Christian  Association,"  corrected  the  earnest 
man  gently. 

"Of  course;  very  stupid  of  me — Association  I 
should  have  said.  It's  very  interesting;  in  fact, 
quite  astonishing.  I  refer  to  the  good  that  the 
Association  has  accomplished  here  in  college." 
Guy  laid  a  hand  on  Chester's  shoulder  and  addressed 
him  with  large  enthusiasm.  "And  I've  been  telling 
— er — this  gentleman  how  deeply  interested  you 
both  are  in — er — that  sort  of  thing,  you  know,  and 
I  want  you  to  hear  him  tell  about  it.  That  is," 
turning  to  the  earnest  one,  "if  you  have  time." 

"Yes,  indeed;  I  shall  be  happy  to  explain  some- 
thing of  our  work,"  replied  the  other  eagerly.  "I 
am  delighted  to  find  any  members  of  the — ah — 
entering  class  who  are  interested  in  the  subject  of 
spiritual  betterment  and  Christian  endeavour."  He 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  101 

positively  beamed.  Chester  strove  to  break  away 
from  Guy's  detaining  grasp  and  Phillip  looked 
blank. 

"Awfully  kind  of  you,"  exclaimed  Guy.  "You'll 
find  both  these  chaps  earnest  and— er — eager,  I  am 
sure,  to  take  practical  interest  in  the  Association. 
Mr.  Baker,  especially,  is  the  man  for  you,  and  I 
truly  hope  that  you  may  be  able  to  prevail  upon  him 
to  take  up  the  Bible  study  work.  I'm  very  glad 
to  have  met  you,  sir,  and  hope  to  do  so  again 
frequently."  He  shook  hands  with  the  other.  "I 
will  consider  the  matter  and  let  you  hear  from  me. 
Good-night,  sir;  good-night." 

'•  He  favoured  Chester  and  Phillip  with  a  satyr- 
like  grin  and  hurried  away  after  refreshments. 
Twenty  minutes  later  his  victims  followed,  murder 
in  their  eyes,  but  both  Guy  and  the  refreshments 
had  disappeared. 

"Phil,  have  you  the  slightest  idea  what  we  prom- 
ised that  fellow?"  asked  Chester  wearily  as  they 
crossed  Broadway. 

"No;  only  I  remember  you  told  him  you'd  be  on 
hand  next  Sunday." 

"Did  I?  I  daresay.  Great  Scott,  how  he  can 
talk !  If  I  don't  get  even  with  Guy  for  this  I'm — 


102  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

I'm — I'll "      But    words    failed    him    and    he 

stumbled  into  Thayer  without  saying  good-night. 

Phillip's  Sunday  evenings  with  John  and  David 
Meadowcamp  had  now  become  regular  institutions, 
and  he  looked  forward  to  them  with  real  pleasure. 
He  saw  John  frequently  during  the  week,  but  their 
various  meetings,  at  Soldiers'  Field,  in  the  square 
or  at  The  Inn  were  short  and  hurried.  But  another 

• 

custom  which  Phillip  had  formed  was  destined  to 
result  in  less  good.  On  Saturday  nights  he  and 
Chester  visited  Guy  in  the  latter 's  rooms,  where  they 
smoked  many  more  cigars  and  cigarettes  than  was 
good  for  them  and  drank  beer  from  mugs  which 
had  music  boxes  secreted  in  them — a  harmless 
enough  dissipation  if  it  had  ended  there. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GUY  occupied  rooms  in  Randolph.  He  shared 
them  with  a  freshman  named  Boerick,  a  tall,  satur- 
nine and  unpopular  fellow,  who,  as  the  possessor 
of  an  income  sufficient  to  the  needs  of  a  prince,  was 
frankly  intolerant  of  those  less  lavish  in  the  display 
of  wealth.  His  admiration  for  Guy  was  the  excep- 
tion proving  the  rule.  Guy  was  well  supplied  with 
money,  but,  unlike  his  roommate,  never  made 
known  the  fact  save  in  the  elegance  of  his  clothes. 
He  treated  Boerick  with  good-natured  contempt, 
explaining  to  those  who  expressed  surprise  at  his 
friendship  for  that  person  that  Boerick  had  become 
necessary  to  him. 

"I  couldn't  do  without  him  now,"  he  declared. 
"He's  really  a  sort  of  penance,  like  a  hair  shirt 
or  something  of  that  kind,  you  know.  Without 
him  I  would  undoubtedly  be  much  more  com- 
fortable, but  I'd  certainly  miss  him  terribly.  I'd 
have  nothing  to  scratch  against  my  sensibilities. 
Besides,  he's  an  ever-present  moral  lesson,  pointing 

103 


104  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

out  eloquently  the  danger  of  combining  wealth 
with  small  minds." 

As  a  rule  Boerick  was  not  present  during  Phillip's 
Saturday  night  visits  to  Guy,  a  fact  for  which 
Phillip  was  heartily  thankful,  since  the  other's 
disdain  always  made  him  long  to  punch  his  nose. 
On  a  certain  Saturday  evening  about  a  month  after 
the  opening  of  college  Phillip  and  Chester  found, 
on  reaching  Guy's  study,  that  Boerick  was  in  pos- 
session of  the  couch  and  was  evidently  inclined  to 
spend  the  evening  at  home.  Phillip  returned  his 
off-hand  salutation  politely  and  for  the  next  half- 
hour  carefully  left  him  to  Chester,  who  looked  upon 
him  much  as  a  small  boy  looks  upon  an  animal  in  the 
Zoo,  and  who  was  always  glad  of  the  opportunity 
to,  figuratively,  punch  him  through  the  bars  and 
hear  him  growl. 

Guy  had  been  lined  up  that  afternoon  in  the  fresh- 
man second  team  during  a  stiff  game  with  the  first, 
and  as  a  result  was  feeling  tired  and  a  trifle  bored. 
He  yawned  several  times  in  the  course  of  a  desultory 
conversation  with  Phillip,  and  finally,  tossing  aside 
his  cigar,  arose  and  stretched  his  arms  wearily 
overhead.  "Look  here,  you  fellows,  I'm  sick  of 
jabber.  Who's  for  a  game  of  cards  ?" 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  105 

"Good  stuff !"  cried  Chester.     "Fetch  'em  out." 

"You  play?"  asked  Guy,  turning  to  Phillip. 

"A  little." 

"What  are  you  going  to  play?"  asked  Boerick. 

"Oh,  nickel  ante,  I  guess." 

"Too  exciting;  leave  me  out." 

"You'll  either  get  off  that  couch  and  take  a  hand 
or  you'll  be  put  out,"  said  Guy  firmly.  Boerick 
grinned  and  drew  a  chair  to  the  table  from  which 
Guy  had  swept  everything  unceremoniously  onto  the 
floor.  But  even  nickel-ante  didn't  prove  sufficiently 
exhilarating  to  Guy,  and  when,  after  some  twenty 
minutes  of  play  during  which  Phillip  won  forty  cents, 
Boerick  proposed  raising  the  limit  to  a  dollar,  he 
promptly  agreed.  Phillip  hesitated.  He  had  only 
about  six  dollars  in  his  pocket,  while  his  entire 
wealth  was  represented  by  something  well  under  a 
hundred. 

"I'll  look  on,  I  reckon,"  he  announced. 

"Oh,  come  on  in,"  urged  Chester.  "It  won't 
hurt  you." 

'To  lose  your  money,"  said  Guy,  "  is  one  of  the 
few  really  satisfactory  ways  of  enjoying  life.  That's 
what  money's  for — to  lose.  As  the  psalmist  so 
sweetly  sings,  'Here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow; 


io6  THE   LAND   OF   JOY~ 

squander  what  you've  got,  then  borrow.'  Besides, 
it  is  quite  writhin  the  possibilities  that  you'll  win 
enough  to  give  us  all  a  dinner  at  the  Touraine. 
Come  to  think  about  it,  fellows,  I'm  not  sure 
that  it  isn't  a  decidedly  risky  thing  we're  doing. 
Virginians,  you  know,  have  a  devil  of  a  reputation 
for  cards  and  pistols." 

"That  was  before  the  war,"  drawled  Boerick. 
"Virginia  has  degenerated.  Isn't  that  so,  Ryerson  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Phillip,  striving  to  conceal  his 
annoyance.  "Our  reputation  as  card-players  may 
be  gone,  but  I  reckon  we're  still  right  handy  with  a 
pistol." 

"Oh,  I  apologize,"  laughed  Boerick.  "You're 
wise  to  leave  cards  alone,  then,  and  wait  until  the 
pistols  come  on.  Still,  if  it's  merely  a  matter  of 
lack  of  money,  I  should  be  delighted  to  loan  you 
what  you  need.  Though,  honestly,  I  had  begun 
to  congratulate  myself  upon  at  last  having  met  with 
a  Southerner  who  wasn't  dead  broke." 

"Shut  up,  Joe,"  said  Guy.     "Cut  for  deal." 

Phillip  felt  the  blood  mounting  to  his  face,  and 
would  gladly  have  given  all  the  money  he  feared 
to  risk  at  cards  for  the  privilege  of  leaning  across 
the  table  and  slapping  Boerick's  face.  As  it  was  he 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  107 

kept  silence  a  moment  until  he  was  sure  that  his 
voice  was  steady.  Then  he  answered : 

"We  Virginians  are  not  in  the  habit  of  borrowing. 
Perhaps  that's  one  reason  some  of  us  are  so  poor. 
But  the  reason  I  hesitated  about  playing  is  that 
I  have  only  a  few  dollars  with  me  and  it  hardly 
seems  worth  while  to  start.  I'm  not  much  of  a 
poker  hand." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  answered  Chester.  "Paper's 
good  amongst  friends;  eh,  Guy?" 

"Good  as  gold;  especially  Phil's.  I  must  decline, 
however,  to  take  any  of  your  I.  O.  U.'s,  Joe;  I'm  a 
burned  child,  my  boy." 

Boerick  grinned,  but  did  not  relish  Chester's 
laughter.  "If  I  owe  you  anything "  he  began. 

"You  don't,  Joe,"  answered  Guy.  "You  always 
pay  up  in  the  end.  The  trouble  is  your  ends  are  so 
darned  long  coming  !  Your  ante,  Phil." 

For  the  next  half -hour  Phillip,  as  a  result  of  careful 
playing,  managed  to  hold  his  own.  Boerick  indulged 
in  a  number  of  sarcasms  at  his  expense,  and  Phillip 
wished  that  he  had  enough  money  to  accept  the 
frequent  challenges.  But  he  kept  his  temper  and 
his  six  dollars  and  was  congratulating  himself  upon 
the  fact  when  Chester  called  for  a  jackpot.  At  the 


io8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

end  of  the  fifth  deal  the  little  pile  in  the  centre  of  the 
board  had  assumed  quite  generous  proportions, 
while  Phillip's  capital  had  dwindled  sadly.  Luck, 
however,  was  with  him,  for  Chester  opened,  and 
Phillip,  with  all  the  courage  of  ignorance,  drew  to  a 
flush  and  filled.  Guy  dropped  out  and  Chester 
followed  a  moment  later,  leaving  Phillip  and  Boerick 
to  fight  it  out.  Phillip  was  quite  in  the  dark  as  to 
what  manner  of  hand  his  adversary  held,  but  he  met 
each  raise  until  two  real  and  twelve  mythical  dollars 
lay  in  the  pot.  It  is  probable  that  he  would  have 
kept  on  until  midnight  had  he  not  glanced  up  to 
find  a  warning  look  on  Chester's  face.  Then  he 
called  and  a  moment  later  was  drawing  his  winnings 
toward  him.  Boerick's  hand  had  consisted  of  two 
pairs,  aces  and  fours. 

"These  Virginians  !"  sighed  Guy. 

Boerick  looked  angry.  Like  all  who  pride  them- 
selves on  their  ability  to  play  poker,  he  hated  to 
lose — especially  to  Phillip,  who  was  the  veriest 
novice.  He  gathered  up  the  cards  and  remarked 
sneeringly : 

"It's  sometimes  better  to  be  lucky  than  to  know 
how,  eh,  Ryerson?" 

"I  reckon  you're  the  one  who  is  in  luck,"  answered 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  109 

Phillip.  "If  I  hadn't  taken  pity  on  you  and  called 
you'd  have  lost  a  heap  more  than  you  did." 

"Now  will  you  be  good?"  asked  Chester. 

"Well,  next  time  don't  mind  my  feelings,"  replied 
Boerick,  ungraciously.  "I  like  to  lose  to  folks  who 
need  the  money." 

"Thanks."  Phillip  smiled  over  at  him  sweetly. 
"I've  heard  you  were  a  bit  of  a  philanthropist." 

Guy  and  Chester  laughed  loudly.  Boerick' s 
money  seldom  aided  any  one  save  Boerick. 

"Well,  it's  about  my  bedtime,  fellows,"  announced 
Guy.  "We'll  play  one  more  round." 

"Jackpots,"  suggested  Chester.  "I've  got  to  get 
back  some  of  the  stuff  I've  lost  to  you  dubs  or  I'll 
be  on  half-rations  for  a  week." 

"Jackpots  it  is,"  answered  Guy.  "Deal  the 
cards,  my  philanthropic  Joseph." 

During  the  next  three  rounds  Phillip's  winnings 
dwindled  until  only  a  trifle  over  his  original  six 
dollars  remained  beside  him.  But  on  the  fourth 
fortune  seemed  to  favour  him  again.  It  was 
Chester's  deal  and  Boerick  opened  for  half  a  dollar. 

"Cards?"  he  asked. 

Guy  shook  his  head  solemnly.  "Perish  the 
thought !" 


no  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Phillip  drew  one  and  bettered  his  hand.  He  held 
a  full  house,  Jacks  and  eights.  Chester  drew  three 
cards  and  imperturbably  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette. 
Boerick  discarded  one  card  and  dealt  himself  another, 
placing  it,  however,  face  down  in  front  of  him. 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea  what  it  is,"  he  said  with 
a  bit  of  a  swagger,  "but  I'll  bet  one  dollar  that  it's 
what  I  want  it  to  be.  And  it'll  cost  the  rest  of  you 
about  fifty  to  turn  it  up." 

"Silly  child,"  murmured  Guy,  "I'll  see  your  old 
dollar  and  raise  you  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law." 

Phillip  followed  suit,  as  did  Chester,  and  for  a 
minute  the  quartette  solemnly  and  silently  increased 
the  pot.  Then  Chester,  with  a  sigh,  dropped  out. 
Phillip's  ready  money  was  gone  now  and  he  was 
staking  paper.  Boerick,  with  the  unknown  card 
before  him,  smiled  aggravatingly  across  at  Phillip, 
until  any  discreet  notion  the  latter  may  have  enter- 
tained of  leaving  the  roommates  to  fight  it  out 
between  them  was  overcome  by  a  determination  to 
lose  every  cent  he  possessed  rather  than  allow 
Boerick  to  think  he  was  frightened. 

Chester  had  pushed  back  his  chair  and  was  leaning 
over  Phillip's  shoulder.  But  whether  he  approved 
or  disapproved  of  his  friend's  betting  the  latter 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  m 

couldn't  tell.  Phillip's  six  dollars  were  now  buried 
under  a  pile  of  chips,  and  he  stood  to  lose  more  than 
he  dared  think  about.  Guy  remained  smiling  and 
indifferent. 

"Pile  'em  up,  Joseph,"  he  urged.  "I  need  your 
money." 

At  length  even  Joseph  was  impressed  by  his 
chum's  confidence  and  paused  to  view  the  pile  of 
chips. 

"I  said  fifty  dollars,  didn't  I  ?"  he  asked.  "Well, 
I  guess  the  fifty's  there.  So " 

"But  why  stop  at  fifty?"  asked  Guy.  "Heavens, 
man !  do  you  think  for  a  moment  that  my 
spending  ability  is  limited  to  fifty  dollars?  Go 
ahead;  play  your  part,  Joe.  Remember  you're  a 
philanthropist !" 

"I  call  you,"  replied  Boerick  sulkily. 

Guy  sighed.  "Was  there  ever  such  luck?"  he 
asked  despondently.  "To  think  of  wasting  a 
hand  like  this  on  a  paltry  fifty  dollars."  He  laid 
down  his  cards,  three  queens  and  a  pair  of  deuces, 
and  glanced  politely  at  Boerick.  Boerick  raised  the 
card  before  him  and  with  gloomy  countenance 
showed  his  hand. 

"Aces  and  nines?"  said  Guy.     "Oh,  hardly  fit, 


ii2  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Joe,  hardly  fit !"  He  turned  to  Phillip.  But  that 
youth's  cards  were  already  on  the  board  and  he  was 
calmly  accepting  one  of  Chester's  cigarettes. 

"By  Jove,  Phil,  you  nearly  had  it,  eh?  Well, 
better  luck  next  time." 

"Hope  so,"  replied  Phillip  indifferently.  "See 
how  much  I  owe  you,  will  you  please  ?" 

Guy  glanced  over  the  sheet  beside  him. 

"Fifty-eight  seventy-five,  Phil." 

"Thanks."  The  fingers  holding  the  cigarette 
trembled  a  trifle,  but  Phillip's  voice  was  beautifully 
untroubled.  "I'll  pay  you  to-morrow." 

"Please  don't,"  begged  Guy.  "There  isn't  the 
least  hurry.  And  besides,  it  might  set  an  uncom- 
fortable example  to  Joe  here." 

Phillip  laughed.  "I'd  rather,  though,"  answered 
he.  "Coming,  Chester?" 

"I  was  tickled  blue  when  Guy  won  that  last  pot 
from  Boerick,"  said  Chester,  as  they  went  up  the 
street.  "I  lost  about  twenty,  but  I  don't  mind  as 
long  as  he  didn't  get  it." 

"Yes,"  answered  Phillip  abstractedly.  On  the 
avenue  they  parted  and  Phillip  went  home  to  his 
room.  He  undressed  thoughtfully,  donned  a  night- 
shirt, lighted  a  short  pipe  and  stretched  himself  out 


"3 

on  the  bed,  his  arms  beneath  his  head.  Maid,  after 
a  moment  of  consideration,  crept  up  beside  him  and 
went  to  sleep  there  with  long  sighs  of  happiness. 
After  the  pipe  had  burned  out  and  grown  cold  it 
still  hung  from  between  clenched  teeth.  Phillip 
was  thinking. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FOOTBALL  affairs  at  Harvard  went  so  smoothly 
that  autumn,  and  promised  so  well  that  the  local 
prophets  were  unanimous  in  declaring  that  "unless 
there  came  a  slump  at  the  critical  moment"  or 
"barring  serious  injuries  to  the  players"  or  "if  the 
present  steady  improvement  in  team-v.-ork  con- 
tinued," Harvard1  would  score  a  victory  in  the  final 
game.  A  well-known  authority  (writing  from 
New  Haven) ,  whose  weekly  articles  were  syndicated 
throughout  the  country,  expressed  the  opinion — 
carefully  hidden  in  a  column  and  a  half  of  close  type 
— that,  unless  Yale  played  considerably  better  than 
her  present  performance  promised,  or  Harvard 
failed  to  justify  the  hopes  of  her  coaches,  the  con- 
test would  be  an  extremely  close  and  interesting 
one,  and  that  victory,  by  whoever  won,  would  be 
well  deserved. 

At  Cambridge,  coaches  and  captain  and  trainer 
put  on  very  lugubrious  expressions  whenever  the 
'varsity  was  mentioned,  and  scratched  wood  and 

114 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  115 

also  muttered    "nttberufm"    on  even  the    slightest 
provocation. 

John  North  was  out  on  the  field  daily  for  the 
better  part  of  two  hours,  dressed  in  togs  that  would 
have  disgraced  an  old -clothes  man  if  found  in  his 
possession.  His  efforts  were  chiefly  directed  at  the 
guards,  and  the  way  in  which  he  seized  those  weighty 
players  and  pushed  them  about  was  beautiful  to  see. 
After  a  particularly  hard  afternoon's  practice  he 
was  ready  to  admit  that  coaching  was  stiffer  work 
than  being  coached.  And  there  were  evening 
meetings  which  had  a  way  of  coming  when  most 
inconvenient,  and  at  which  he  was  expected  to  deliver 
terse  homilies  on  breaking  through  and  blocking 
and  other  artifices  of  the  game.  With  it  all  he 
had  little  opportunity  for  cultivating  the  further 
acquaintance  of  Phillip  and  enacting  the  role  of 
guardian  to  that  youth.  He  told  himself  daily  that 
he  was  derelict  in  his  duty,  and  promised  to  find 
time  the  next  day  to  look  up  his  charge  and  salve 
his  conscience.  But  his  good  resolutions  came  to 
naught.  On  Sunday  evenings  Phillip  always  showed 
up  at  his  room,  and  the  three,  often  reinforced 
by  the  presence  of  a  visitor,  spent  a  pleasant  hour 
or  two.  David  spoke  of  them  as  family  gatherings 


u6  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

and  dutifully  kept  awake  until  they  had  broken 
up.  But  John  found  that  Phillip  since  the  previous 
Sunday  had  undergone  experiences  and  made  friends 
quite  on  his  own  hook  and  was  generally  managing 
his  affairs  without  recourse  to  the  maturer  advice  of 
John  or  David  or  anybody  else.  So  far,  John  was 
sure  the  boy  had  not  "broken  out  of  pasture,"  as 
Corliss  put  it.  Chester  Baker  and  Guy  Bassett  and 
Everett  Kingsford  were  all  straightforward,  healthy- 
minded  fellows,  than  whom  no  better  associates 
could  have  fallen  to  Phillip's  lot.  But,  as  John  told 
himself  with  compunction,  that  Phillip  had  been  so 
fortunate  in  his  choice  of  friends  was  due  to  no  help 
of  his.  He  had  replied  to  Corliss's  letter  and  had 
promised  to  look  after  Phillip.  And  he  hadn't- 
kept  his  promise,  or,  at  least,  not  fully.  And  then 
there  was  Margaret !  What  would  Margaret  think 
of  him  if  she  know  how  illy  he  was  executing  his 
trust?  For  some  reason  it  was  always  the  latter 
thought  that  troubled  him  most. 

And  so  one  day — it  was  during  the  first  week  in 
November;  a  leaden,  cheerless  afternoon,  with  a 
stinging  wind  blowing  across  Soldiers'  Field  from 
the  river — John  came  out  of  the  locker  building  an 
hour  earlier  than  usual  and,  with  the  sparks  blowing 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  117 

from  his  pipe-bowl,  strode  across  the  yellowing  turf 
toward  where,  from  the  shelter  of  a  little,  iron- 
sheathed  hut  at  the  far  end  of  the  field,  puffs  of 
white  smoke  told  that  the  Shooting  Club  were  at 
practice.  John  nodded  to  several  fellows  he  knew 
and  found  a  sheltered  corner.  Phillip  was  shooting ; 
a  straight,  wide-hipped,  graceful  figure  in  an  old 
canvas  coat,  his  battered  Winchester  shotgun,  in 
noticeable  contrast  to  the  highly  polished  Scotts 
and  Dalys  that  John  saw  about  him,  held  easily 
before  him. 

"Ready ! " 

"Pull!" 

A  trap  clicked  and  a  Blue  Rock  quivered  away 
to  the  left ;  there  was  a  puff  of  smoke,  a  report  and  a 
little  crackling  sound  as  the  clay  disk  broke  into 
fragments.  Another  trap  was  sprung  and  again 
the  butt  was  swung  easily  against  the  shoulder  and 
once  more  the  speeding  bird  fell  in  fragments. 
The  left-hand  trap  sprang  a  broken  disk,  but  Phillip, 
amidst  the  laughter  of  the  watchers,  chose  the  larg- 
est portion  and  sent  it  swerving  out  of  its  track. 

"No  bird,"  called  the  scorer,  and  on  the  next  try, 
a  mean  flight  at  a  wide  angle,  he  again  scored 
a  hit. 


n8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Rather  a  good  shot,  isn't  he?"  asked  John  of  a 
neighbour. 

"A  peach  !  He's  better  than  usual  to-day;  hasn't 
made  a  miss  yet.  His  name's  Ryerson  and  he  comes 
from  Virginia.  I  fancy  he's  done  a  lot  of  quail 
shooting;  there's  nothing  like  that  to  give  you  an 
eye,  you  know." 

Phillip  broke  his  gun,  blew  through  the  barrel  and 
stepped  back  to  the  hut,  looking  quite  as  sober  as 
though  he  had  missed  every  bird.  "He's  coming 
on,"  thought  John.  "The  ability  to  disguise  your 
satisfaction  at  a  deed  well  done  seems  to  be  one  of 
the  first  lessons  we  teach  at  college  nowadays." 
He  nodded  to  Phillip  and  the  latter  joined  him. 

"Hello,"  he  said.  "Have  they  discharged  you 
from  the  board  of  coaches?" 

"No,"  replied  John;  "but  I  got  through  early  and 
thought  I'd  come  over  and  see  you  shoot.  They 
tell  me  you're  quite  a  dab  at  it." 

"Oh,  well,  I  manage  to  hit  them  now  and  then. 
Of  course,  the  captain  there  is  our  star.  We're 
about  through.  If  you'll  wait  I'll  walk  back  with 
you." 

John  waited  and  they  tramped  back  to  the  square 
in  the  teeth  of  the  November  gale,  loitering  a  minute 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  119 

or  two  on  the  porch  of  the  Weld  Club  house  to  watch 
one  of  the  crews  disembark — eight  glowing,  water- 
drenched  young  giants  and  a  shrill- voiced,  impera- 
tive wisp  of  a  coxswain.  Phillip  accompanied  John 
to  his  room  and  they  had  a  restful  smoke  in  the 
gathering  darkness,  their  feet  well  up  and  their 
heads  well  back,  with  the  subdued  clanging  of  the 
cars  on  the  avenue  and  the  rattling  of  the  case- 
ments under  the  assaults  of  the  wind  for  an  accom- 
paniment to  their  lazy  conversation. 

"Larry  Baker  told  me  you  were  round  to  see 
him  the  other  night,"  said  John. 

"Yes;  I  really  didn't  want  to  go.  I  thought 
maybe  he'd  think  I  was  cheeky.  But  he  didn't 
seem  to  mind;  in  fact,  he  was  right  nice  to  me." 

"Why  should  he  mind?  This  thing  of  each  class 
huddling  to  itself  like  a  lot  of  chickens  in  a  rain- 
storm is  all  poppycock,  Phil.  We're  all  in  the 
same  boat ;  we're  all  Harvard  men.  What  earthly 
difference  does  it  make  whether  a  chap  is  a  first 
year  man  or  a  fourth?  Why  shouldn't  I  take  my 
friends  from  the  freshmen  or  sophomores  if  I  can 
find  them  there  ?  If  there  were  more  coalescence 
between  the  upper  classes  and  the  lower  it  would 
be  a  darned  sight  better,  I  think." 


120  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"I  reckon  it  would  be  better  for  the  lower  men," 
laughed  Phillip,  "but  it  might  be  a  bit  of  a  bore  to 
the  upper.  We  freshies  are  a  kiddish  lot,  you 
know — that  is,  most  of  us.  Some  aren't.  There's 
Guy  Bassett.  He  seems  more  like  a  fellow  of 
twenty-five  or  six  than  a  freshman,  he's  so  kind  of 
serious  and — and  smart." 

"I've  heard  of  Bassett,"  yawned  John.  "Came 
from  Exeter.  I  believe  he's  about  twenty.  His 
folks  sent  him  to  school  when  he  was  fourteen  and 
he  stayed  there  until  Christmas,  and  then  disap- 
peared from  human  ken  for  the  space  of  eighteen 
months  or  so.  When  they  heard  from  him  next 
he  was  in  Melbourne,  having,  I  think,  gone 
pretty  well  around  two  sides  of  the  globe  on 
a  schooner.  At  least,  that's  the  yarn  Larry  Baker 
tells." 

"Really  ?  I'd  never  heard  that,"  answered  Phillip. 
"I  reckon  that  accounts  for  his  seeming  so  old  and— 
experienced." 

"I  daresay.  What  kind  of  a  chap  is  he  now? 
Quiet  or — er — up  to  things?" 

"Oh,  quiet,  I'd  call  him.  He  plays  football,  you 
know.  He's  on  the  freshman  second,  and  I  reckon 
he'll  make  the  first  before  the  Yale  game.  Yes,  he 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  121 

seems  quiet  enough.  He  rooms  with  a  fellow  named 
Boerick — an  awful  beast." 

"Yes,  I've  met  Boerick,"  laughed  John.  "This 
is  his  second  year  as  a  freshie.  He  is  a  beast,  isn't 
he?  Awful  cad.  His  father  has  gobs  of  money; 
made  it  in  the  clothing  business  in  New  York.  You 
can  see  his  ads.  any  old  day  in  the  papers :  'Now  then, 
how  about  a  new  overcoat  for  winter  ?  Getting  chilly, 
isn't  it?  Have  you  seen  our  nobby  Newmarkets 
in  English  worsteds?  We  like  them  ourselves; 
maybe  you  would  if  you  saw  them.  Only  thing  is, 
when  they're  gone — and  they're  going  fast— there 
won't  be  any  more.  A  word  to  the  wise !'  That's 
the  style,  you  know ;  that  beastly  familiar  style  that 
always  makes  me  want  to  kick  somebody." 

Phillip  laughed. 

''Talking  of  clothing,"  he  said  presently,  "I've 
had  some  new  things  made,  and  they've  cost  an 
awful  lot  of  money.  I  didn't  know  things  were 
so  high." 

"It's  a  way  they  have  hereabouts,"  answered 
John.  'Tf  you  want  to  get  anything  at  a  reasonable 
price  the  best  plan  is  to  make  affidavit  that  you're  a 
car  conductor  or  a  coal-heaver  or  something  of  that 
sort;  anything  save  a  Harvard  student.  The  shop- 


122  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

keepers  think  we're  fair  game  for  anything.  Try 
it  next  time,  Phil." 

"I  reckon  there  won't  be  any  next  time,"  answered 
Phillip  ruefully ;  "at  any  rate,  not  for  a  good  while. 
Fact  is,  I'm  pretty  well  cleaned  out." 

"Yes?  I  presume  what  Davy  calls  'boarding 
and  baiting'  is  costing  more  than  you  thought  it 
would?" 

"N — no;  it's— it's  the  other  things,  you  see: 
clothes  and  belonging  to  things,  like  the  Shooting 
Club,  and—  Oh,  I  don't  know;  there's  always 
something !" 

"I  see.  In  other  words,  the  price  of  admission  is 
what  y°u  expected,"  said  John,  "but  the  figures  on 
the  menu  are  fierce.  Well,  it's  all  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme, Phil.  It's  a  sort  of  course  in  practical 
economy,  you  know,  in  which  you're  your  own 
instructor  and  in  which  an  E  is  the  average  mark ; 
a  course  in  which,  strange  to  say,  lectures  follow 
examinations." 

" That's  the  worst  of  it,"  said  Phillip.  "I'd  ought 
to  be  lectured,  but  I  won't  be.  Mamma  will  tell 
Margey  that  it  was  ridiculous  of  them  to  expect  me 
to  get  along  until  Christmas  on  so  little,  and  will  be 
in  an  awful  fidget  until  I  assure  her  that  I  haven't 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  123 

suffered    any    privations.     I — I    wish    father    had 
lived." 

"You're  a  queer  beggar,  Phil.  But,  I  say,  I 
wouldn't — er— bother  your  sister  and  your  mother 
too  much  about  money  affairs.  If  you  need  any 
I'll  always  be  glad  to  loan,  Phil.  And,  honestly,  I 
feel  rather  guilty  about  you,  old  man.  You  know 
I  undertook  to  sort  of  keep  an  eye  on  you,  and  I 
haven't  done  it.  I  daresay  I  might  have  saved 
some  of  that  money  to  you  if  I'd  been  around." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Phillip,  "but  I'd  rather 
not  borrow  from  anybody,  John.  I've  written  home 
and  told  Margey  what  a  blamed  fool  I've  been  and 
all  that,  and  I  reckon  I'll  have  some  money  as  soon 
as  I  need  it.  It  isn't  that  that's  troubling  me.  But 
— but  how  shall  I  get  along  for  the  next  three  years 
and  a  half  without  spending  a  sight  more  than  I'm 
worth  ?  If  I  was  being  educated  for  something,  you 
see — if  I  was  going  to  be  a  doctor  or  a  lawyer  or 
anything  practical  it  wouldn't  be  so  hopeless.  But 
I'm  just  'going  through  Harvard,'  as  my  father 
did,  merely  because — because  he  wanted  it." 

"  But,  great  Scott,  Phil,  you've  only  begun ! 
There's  time  yet  to  decide  on  a  profession.  Why 
not  be  a  lawyer?" 


i24  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"I  couldn't,"  answered  Phillip  decisively.  "I 
haven't  the  least  aptitude  for  it,  John.  No,  I'd 
rather  be  a  good  farmer  than  a  poor  lawyer.  And  I 
reckon  that's  what  it'll  come  to.  After  all,  I  might 
do  worse.  Elaine  can  be  made  to  pay  right  well,  I 
reckon,  and  I  can  find  plenty  of  work  there.  It's  a 
healthful,  wide-awake  sort  of  life,  with  plenty  of 
enjoyment,  and  I  reckon  it's  about  the  only  sort  I'm* 
fit  for." 

" '  Blessed  is  that  man  who  has  found  his  work,' ': 
quoted  John.  "And,  for  my  part,  I  can't  imagine  a 
more  ideal  existence  than  farming  a  place  like  Elaine* 
— or  even  a  good  deal  smaller  place — as  long  as  it' 
could  be  made  to  pay  for  itself  and  supply  a  few 
luxuries.  I  don't  think  I'd  trouble  about  a  profes- 
sion, Phil.  Be  a  farmer  and  thank  the  Lord  you  live 
in  a  State  where  you  can  be  that  and  a  gentleman 
at  the  same  time.  And  don't  think  for  a  moment 
that  a  college  education  is  wasted  on  you.  It'll  pay 
for  itself  in  the  long  run ;  it  would  if  you  were  only 
going  to  lay  sewer  pipe  all  the  rest  of  your  days." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  asked  Phillip  doubt- 
fully. 

"  I  really  do.  We  hear  a  good  deal  of  talk  nowa- 
days about  the  superiority  of  the  practical  over  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  125 

college  education.  There  are  a  number  of  men  who, 
by  dogged  perseverance  and  hard  labour,  have  man- 
aged to  accumulate  millions  of  dollars  without  ever 
having  set  foot  in  college.  Some  of  these  have  a 
good  deal  to  say  about  the  uselessness  of  college 
learning.  But  it's  a  safe  bet  that  if  those  same  men 
had  gone  to  college  they'd  have  piled  up  their 
millions  just  the  same,  and  it's  more  than  probable 
that  they'd  have  made  the  piles  bigger  than  they  are. 
If  learning  to  be  self-dependent,  broad-minded,  well 
poised  mentally  and  physically,  isn't  practical  educa- 
tion, what  in  Heaven's  name  is?" 

"Well.  .  .  .  But  broad-minded?"  demurred 
Phillip.  "That's  the  very  thing  that  lots  of  folks 
say  college  men  are  not." 

"And  I  say  they  are,"  answered  John  warmly. 
"I'm  not  discussing  the  men  of  any  special  univer- 
sity ;  I  mean  all  of  them — Harvard  men,  Yale  men, 
Oxford  men,  the  whole  push.  They've  got  to  be 
broad-minded  if  only  for  the  reason  that  they  have 
learned  how  broad  the  world  is.  I  don't  mean  to  say 
that  college  men,  like  other  men,  have  no  hobbies  or 
prejudices.  Of  course  they  have ;  they  can  be  just  as 
big  cranks  as  any.  But  the  fact  that  you're  brushing 
a  fly  off  your  nose  doesn't  signify  that  you  haven't  a 


126  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

long  reach.  Don't  be  afraid  that  college  is  going  to 
narrow  your  mind,  Phil.  You'll  find,  to  the  con- 
trary, that  it  has  much  the  same  effect  upon  it  as 
chest-weights  have  on  your  lungs.  And,  by  the 
way,  how  comes  on  the  physical  development?" 

"Oh,  I'm  getting  more  like  Sandow  every  day," 
laughed  Phillip.  "And  I'm  going  to  take  your 
advice  and  try  track  work.  I  think  I  could  run 
right  well  if  I  knew  more  about  it." 

"Good  work.  And  how  about  studies?  Having 
much  trouble?" 

"N — no,  I'm  getting  along  a  heap  better  than  I 
expected  to.  Government  bothers  me  a  good  deal ; 
but  I  reckon  I'll  pass  in  it  all  right." 

Footsteps  sounded  outside  the  door  and  the  letter- 
drop  clicked.  John  dropped  his  feet  from  the 
window-seat  and  pulled  himself  out  of  his  chair. 
Phillip  followed  his  example. 

"Don't  run  off,"  said  John.  "I'll  just  light  up 
and  see  what's  in  the  mail.  I've  been  expecting  a 
letter  from  my  folks  since  Saturday." 

"I've  got  to  go  back  to  the  room  before  dinner," 
answered  Phillip,  as  the  gas  flared  up,  "and  so  I 
reckon  I'll  jog  along."  He  walked  toward  the  door. 
John  had  gathered  several  letters  from  the  rug  and 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  127 

was  examining  them  on  the  table.  The  writing  on 
the  envelope  of  one  was  wholly  unfamiliar  and  he 
glanced  at  the  postmark  and  with  difficulty  made  it 
out:  " Melville  C.  H.,  Va."  He  started  and  glanced 
quickly  at  Phillip. 

"Hold  on,  Phil,"  he  called,  "here's "  He 

stopped  himself  suddenly.  "  Never  mind;  it's  noth- 
ing. Wish  you'd  stay  and  come  to  dinner  with 
me.  No  ?  Well,  so  long ;  very  glad  you  came  in, 
Phil.  Don't  forget  Sunday  night  if  I  don't  see 
you  before." 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  the  other,  John's 
gaze  returned  to  the  letter  in  his  hand  and  his  fore- 
head became  a  maze  of  creases.  Then  he  slowly  slit 
the  envelope  and,  drawing  forth  the  single  sheet  it 
held,  glanced  perplexedly  at  the  signature.  He  read 
it  twice  and  his  frown  of  perplexity  gave  place  to  an 
odd  little  smile  that  expressed  wonderment,  pleasure 
and  something  of  dismay.  Laying  down  the  missive, 
he  went  to  the  pipe-tray,  refilled  his  briar  and  lighted 
it,  keeping  the  while  an  eye  on  the  letter  as  though 
he  feared  it  would  whisk  itself  out  of  sight.  Then 
he  drew  a  chair  to  the  light,  settled  himself  com- 
fortably and  took  up  the  letter  again.  But  ere  he 
began  it  he  turned  it  over  and  looked  once  more  at 


128  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  signature  as  if  in  doubt  as  to  the  correctness 
of  his  previous  interpretation  of  the  small  yet  angular 
writing.  But  there  was  no  mistake;  the  letters 
spelled  "Margaret  Ryerson"  and  nothing  else. 
John  emitted  a  sigh  of  relief  and  turned  to  the 
beginning.  This  is  what  he  read: 
"MY  DEAR  MR.  NORTH: 

"  Your  kind  reply  to  Mr.  Corliss,  which  he  thought- 
fully forwarded  to  us,  is  the  only  excuse  I  can 
offer  for  troubling  you  further  with  our  difficulties, 
and  I  do  hope  you  will  not  regret  undertaking  what 
I  know  must,  with  all  your  duties,  be  a  great  trouble 
to  you.  I  am  writing  this  in  behalf  of  my  mother, 
who  is  unable  to  attend  to  such  things.  And  she 
asks  me  to  try  and  tell  you  how  deeply  grateful  she  is 
for  your  kindness  to  Phillip.  I  fear,  though,  that  I 
can't  do  that  in  a  letter.  I  can  only  beg  you  to 
believe  that  both  my  mother  and  myself  feel  that 
nothing  we  can  say  or  do  will  requite  you  for  your 
services  to  us.  Phillip  is  very  dear  to  us  both,  and 
it  is  such  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  there  is  some 
one  older  and  more  experienced  than  he  to  whom 
he  can  appeal  for  advice  and  whom  he  may  look  upon 
as  a  friend.  It  has  made  us  very  happy  down  here 
at  Elaine,  you  may  be  sure. 


THE  LAND   OF  JOY  129 

"But  there  is  another  matter  in  which  I  want  to 
ask  your  help,  and  this  part  of  my  letter  is  on  no 
one's  authority  but  my  own,  for  I  have  thought  best 
not  to  worry  my  mother  with  the  affair.  Phillip 
has  just  written  us  that  he  has  lost  some  money  at 
cards,  not  a  great  deal,  but  a  considerable  sum  to  us 
'poor  Virginians.'  Perhaps  Mr.  Corliss  wrote  you 
that  our  circumstances  are  considerably  altered  since 
my  father's  death?  We  really  have  very  little 
money  now,  although  when  our  property  here  is  sold 
we  shall  not  be  poverty  stricken.  We  thought  it  a 
pity  to  spoil  Phillip's  enjoyment  of  his  first  year  at 
college  by  acquainting  him  with  the  real  state  of 
affairs,  and  so  he  doesn't  know  how  hard  it  is  for  us 
to  find  the  money  for  his  expenses.  And  we  had 
rather  he  didn't  know  yet.  And  so  if  there  is  any 
way  of  keeping  him  from  playing  cards  for  money, 
won't  you  please  try  it  ?  It  is  not  that  we  are  very 
strict  here  about  such  things;  only  that  Phillip, 
though  he  does  not  know  it,  cannot  afford  to  use  his 
money  that  way.  I  am  sure  that  you  will  find  some 
manner  of  keeping  him  from  it  without  letting  him 
know  I  have  written  to  you.  I  fear  he  would  not 
forgive  me  if  he  knew.  We  have  no  right  to  ask  you 
to  give  your  time  to  looking  after  Phillip,  and  you 


1 3o  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

must  think  us  very  selfish  and  exacting.     But  do 
please  believe  that,  at  least,  we  are  not  ungrateful. 

"Thanking  you  again  on  my  mother's  behalf  and 
on  my  own,  Sincerely  yours, 

"MARGARET  RYERSON." 

When  David  came  in  a  few  minutes  later  he  found 
John  puffing  hard  at  an  empty  pipe,  his  hands — one 
of  them  holding  a  letter — clasped  behind  his  head 
and  his  countenance  expressing  great  contentment. 


CHAPTER   IX 

WHILE  they  were  preparing  for  bed  that  night 
John  took  David  into  his  confidence,  in  a  measure, 
and  asked  his  advice..  He  made  no  mention  of  the 
letter.  David's  views  were  not  encouraging. 

"  What  you  want  to  do,"  he  said,  "  is  to  retire  into 
the  extreme  distance  and  rest  upon  your  haunches. 
Every  fellow  has  the  inalienable  right  to  get  rid  of 
his  money  as  he  bloody  well  pleases,  and  even  a 
foster-mother  has  no  business  dictating,  Johnny. 
If  I  were  Phil  and  you  tried  it  with  me  I'd  punch 
your  old  head  for  you." 

"But  Phil  hasn't  the  right  to  spend  money  he 
hasn't  got,"  answered  John.  "And  that's  what  it 
amounts  to.  Of  course,  it's  mostly  his  family's 
fault.  They've  no  business  letting  him  think  that 
there's  plenty  of  money  when  there  isn't " 

"Different  from  most  fellows'  families,"  growled 
David. 

"  Well,  it's  my  duty  to  interfere." 

"  It's  your  duty  to  mind  your  own  affairs.     Look 


132  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

here,  has  Phil  owned  up  to  you  that  he's  been  losing 
his  tin?" 

"  Not  exactly.  He  acknowledges  that  he's  broke, 
but  he  hasn't  mentioned  cards." 

"Then  how  are  you  going  to  speak  to  him  about 
it  ?  If  you  go  to  him  and  say  '  Look  here,  some  one 
— I  can't  tell  you  who — tells  me  that  you've  lost 
more  money  than  is  good  for  you  at  cards,'  he'll 
simply  get  mightily  insulted  and  won't  speak  to  you 
again  until  you  apologize." 

"Yes,  I  think  he  would,"  mused  John. 

"Well,  there  you  are!" 

"And  so  I  shan't  say  a  word  to  him  about  it. 
You  see,  I  hadn't  intended  to,"  said  John  sweetly. 

"  Then  what's  all  this  jabbering  for  ? " 

"  It's  always  a  pleasure,  an  intellectual  treat,  to 
hear  your  opinions,  Davy.  Good-night." 

What  John  did  the  next  morning  was  entirely 
characteristic  of  him.  He  went  to  Guy  Bassett's 
room,  introduced  himself,  and  told  his  mission  in  less 
than  two  dozen  words.  If  Guy  experienced  either 
surprise  or  amusement  he  was  too  courteous  to  show 
it.  Instead,  he  expressed  much  pleasure  at  meeting 
John,  listened  politely  to  what  he  had  to  say  and 
then  proffered  his  cigarette  case. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  133 

"We  did  play  rather  high  one  night,"  he  said, 
"and  Ryerson  lost  about  sixty  dollars,  I  believe. 
Since  then  we  have  confined  ourselves  to  ten-cent 
limit  and  I'm  certain  he  hasn't  dropped  more  than 
a  two-dollar  bill.  Of  course,  if  I'd  known  what  1 
do  now  I  wouldn't  have  played  with  him.  I  sup- 
posed he  had  plenty  of  money,  and  the  charming 
promptitude  with  which  he  paid  his  debts  con- 
firmed the  supposition.  I  like  Phil;  he's  refresh- 
ingly simple  and  human;  and  he's  plucky,  too; 
and  so  I'll  see  that  he  doesn't  lose  any  more  of  his 
money  here,  North.  For  that  matter,  though,  I 
guess  he's  learned  his  lesson.  I'm  awfully  much 
obliged  to  you  for  coming  and  telling  me  about  it; 
and  very  glad  to  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you.  Good-morning." 

In  the  afternoon  John  went  to  the  Union  and, 
establishing  himself  at  a  corner  desk  in  the  writing- 
room,  picked  holes  in  the  nice  clean  crimson  blotter 
for  fully  twenty  minutes  before  he  set  pen  to  paper. 
When  he  did  he  wrote  steadily  for  three  pages. 
Then  he  read  what  he  had  written,  smiled  as  though 
well  pleased  with  it,  chewed  the  end  of  his  pen- 
holder for  awhile,  and  then  slowly  and  regretfully 
tore  his  letter  into  minute  fragments.  In  its  stead 


i34  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

he  filled  a  page  with  his  small,  heavy  writing  and 
subscribed  himself,  "Faithfully,  John  North."  He 
addressed  the  envelope  to  "Miss  Ryerson,  Elaine, 
Melville  Court  House,  Virginia,"  and  dropped  it 
into  the  box  in  the  hall  with  elaborate  carelessness 
lest  Phillip  should  be  looking  on  and  should  in 
some  wonderful  manner  guess  its  destination.  Then, 
whistling  contentedly,  he  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
trousers  pockets  and  strode  off  to  the  field  and 
practice. 

The  date  of  the  Yale  game  was  but  some  two 
weeks  distant  and  confidence  in  a  victory  for  the 
Crimson  was  steadily  increasing  throughout  the 
college.  The  prophets  were  working  overtime  and, 
as  is  their  wont,  were  writing  more  and  saying  less 
each  day.  It  was  nearing  the  time  to  send  in 
applications  for  tickets,  a  fact  of  which  Phil  was 
reminded  that  evening.  Everett  Kingsford  walked 
down  the  avenue  with  him  after  dinner  and  guided 
him  into  Leavitt's  for  a  game  of  billiards,  a  game 
for  which"  Phillip  hadrthe~highest  admiration  and  at 
which  he  invariably  lost.  A  counter  was  littered  with 
blank  applications  and  the  two  helped  themselves. 

"You're  an  H.  A.  A.  ticket-holder,  aren't  you?" 
Kingsford  asked. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  135 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  look  here,  then.  I've  got  to  take  some 
of  my  folks  to  the  game.  There'll  be  the  mater  and 
my  sister  and  a  friend;  that  means  four  seats, 
counting  my  own.  I  can  only  apply  for  two,  of 
course.  Are  you  going  to  take  any  one  ? " 

"  No,  I  reckon  not.     I  hadn't  thought- of  it. " 

"Well,  will  you  put  in  your  application  with 
mine?  I've  got  another  fellow  who  is  going  to. 
That  will  give  us  six  seats  together,  you  see.  Of 
course  I'll  pay  you  for  the  second  ticket.  If  you 
don't  want  to  be  bothered  talking  to  women  folks 
you  can  have  the  end  seat,  but  I  want  you  to  meet 
the  mater.  I  think  you'd  like  her." 

"I'd  like  to,"  answered  Phillip,  "and  the  friend, 
too." 

"Oh,  the  friend!"  laughed  Kingsford.  "Well, 
I  can't  allow  that,  Phil.  I'll  let  you  sit 
between  Betty  and  the  mater,  but  the  friend's 
barred." 

"Who's   Betty?     Your  sister?" 

"  She  has  that  honour.  " 

"  Is  she — is  she  intellectual?" 

"Terribly;  a  regular  blue-stocking.  But  I'll  tell 
her  to  be  easy  on  you.  Besides,  the  mater'll  see 


136  THE   LAND   OP  JOY 

fair  play.  You  make  out  your  application  to- 
morrow and  we'll  get  them  in.  Your  shot. " 

Phillip,  after  long  and  careful  aim,  missed  a 
simple  carrom,  and  Kingsford,  lounging  negligently 
about  the  table,  made  a  run  of  fourteen,  while  his 
adversary  looked  on  enviously  from  the  seat. 

One  chill  and  cloudy  afternoon  Phillip  and 
Chester  marched  in  a  procession  composed  of  some 
six  hundred  patriotic  and  enthusiastic  fellows  from 
the  Union  out  to  Soldiers'  Field,  taking  in  the  Yard 
en  route  and  gathering  recruits  from  halls  and 
dormitories.  At  the  head  strode  a  band.  Then 
came  a  diligent  junior  with  a  big  crimson  mega- 
phone, and  behind  him  the  classes  marshaled 
according  to  seniority,  and  each  preceeded  by  a 
flapping  banner  bearing  the  class  numerals.  Phillip 
and  his  friends  were  at  the  tag  end,  but  it  was  all 
very  inspiriting  and  impressive,  and  he  was  glad  he 
belonged.  And  it  was  rather  good  fun,  too,  for  it 
was  the  proper  thing  to  walk  on  the  heels  of  the 
fellows  in  front  whenever  possible  and  apologize 
profusely  when  they  showed  displeasure.  The 
cheering  and  singing  were  incessant,  and  they 
crossed  the  square,  where  the  sidewalks  were  lined 
with  town  folk  and  shopkeepers,  the  feminine 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  137 

element  largely  predominating,  chanting  the  jovial 
strains  of  "Up  the  Street"  with  might  and  main: 

"  Look  where  the  Crimson  banners  fly  ! 

Hark  to  the  sound  of  tramping  feet ! 
There  is  a  host  approaching  nigh — 

Harvard  is  marching  up  the  street ! 
Onward  to  victory  again  ! 

Marching  with  drum-beat  and  with  song — 
Hear  the  refrain  ! 

As  it  thunders  along — as  it  thunders  along ! 

Behold  !  they  come  in  view  ! 

Who  wear  the  Crimson  hue — 
Whose  arms  are  strong,  whose  hearts  are  true  ! 

Ever  to  Harvard  !  ever  to  Harvard ! " 

From  the  band  far  up  at  the  head  of  the  line  came 
the  shrilling  of  the  piccolos  for  a  little  space  and 
with  it  the  steady  tramp,  tramp  of  many  feet. 
And  then  the  drums  crashed  again  and  the  voices 
took  up  the  song  once  more,  grandly,  confidently  : 

"  And  Harvard's  glory  shall  be  our  aim, 

And  through  the  ages  the  sound  shall  roll, 
When  all  together  we  cheer  her  name — 
When  we  cheer  her  with  heart  and  soul ! " 

Out  Boylston  Street  they  went,  cheering  by 
classes,  across  the  little  drawbridge  which  creaked 
complainingly  beneath  them,  into  the  field  by  the 
big  gate  and  past  the  monument.  Outside  the 
gridiron  they  came  to  a  halt.  The  entrances  were 
draped  with  canvas  and  secret  practice  was  not  yet 
over.  So  the  indefatigable  junior  with  the  mega- 


138  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

phone  mounted  a  pile  of  lumber  and  called  for  more 
cheers;  cheers  for  the  players  separately  and  col- 
lectively, for  the  coaches  one  by  one  and  for  the 
trainer,  and  finally  for  the  college.  And  overhead 
the  workmen  leaned  down  from  the  big,  many- 
trussed  stand  they  were  erecting  and  grinned 
sympathy  and  approval. 

At  last  the  canvas  was  drawn  aside  and  the  band 
and  the  followers  marched  into  the  amphitheatre. 
On  the  gridiron  players  and  coaches  paused  for  a 
moment  to  watch  as  the  procession  passed  them 
and  made  its  way  around  the  field  to  the  farther 
stand,  and  it'  is  scarcely  conceivable,  despite  the 
disinterested  expression  of  their  faces,  that  they  were 
unmoved  by  the  hearty  cheers  that  arose  to  the 
bleak,  wind-swept  sky. 

On  the  south  stand  the  audience  gathered  itself 
into  a  group  that  looked  very  small  against  the  long 
expanse  of  empty  seats,  and  the  players  were  lined 
up  for  an  open  practice  game.  But  the  audience 
paid  for  what  was  shown  it.  The  songs  that  were 
to  be  sung  at  the  big  game  were  gone  over  with 
again  and  again,  and  the  cheering  was  practised 
until  throats  grew  dry  and  voices  hoarse.  During 
the  five  minutes'  intermission  John  North  and 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  139 

several  other  coaches  got  together  and  joined  their 
voices  to  the  mighty  chorus  that  swept  across  the 
field: 

"  Hard  luck  for  poor  old  Eli ! 

Tough  on  the  blue  ! 
Now,  all  together, 

Smash  them  and  break  through ! 
'Gainst  the  line  of  Crimson 

They  can't  prevail. 
Three  cheers  for  Harvard  ! 

And  down  with  Yale  !  " 

"If  we  could  only  win  the  game  by  cheering," 
said  the  head  coach,  "I  think  I'd  be  quite  satisfied 
with  things." 

"We  can  come  pretty  near  doing  it  that  way," 
answered  John.  "That  sort  of  thing  is  worth  at 
least  two  scores." 

Later  the  procession  formed  again  and  marched 
back  the  way  it  had  come,  still  singing,  still  cheering, 
the  fellows  dancing  arm  in  arm  from  side  to  side 
across  the  dusty  road.  But  the  freshman  con- 
tingent, or  the  greater  part  of  it,  didn't  return  to 
the  square  then,  but  veered  off,  swaying,  snake- 
like,  across  the  turf  to  where  their  eleven  was 
battling  with  the  second  squad.  There  they  prac- 
tically surrounded  the  players,  so  that  from  a  little 
distance  it  looked  as  though  an  impromptu  prize- 
fight were  going  on,  and  cheered  them  incessantly 


1 40  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

and  got  in  their  way  every  moment  and  arose  to 
wonderful  heights  of  enthusiasm.  Phillip  and 
Chester  pushed  their  way  to  near  where  Guy  Bassett 
was  playing  right  end  on  the  second  team  and 
applauded  his  every  act  wildly.  Nothing  was  too 
trivial  to  win  their  plaudits.  If  he  rubbed  his  hands 
together  they  cheered  madly;  if  he  shoved  his 
opponent  they  cried  "Played,  Bassett!  Played, 
sir!"  and  if  he  ran  their  enthusiasm  simply  over- 
powered them  and  they  waved  their  caps  frantic- 
ally and  leaped  into  the  air  and  hugged  each  other 
ecstatically.  Their  friends  rallied  to  them  in  such 
numbers  that  when,  presently,  Guy  got  the  ball 
on  a  double  pass  and  promptly  fumbled  and  lost 
it,  the  "three  long  Harvards  and  three  times  three 
for  Bassett"  which  thundered  forth  might  have 
been  heard  half  a  mile  away.  Guy  bore  it  splen- 
didly for  awhile  and  they  got  little  satisfaction, 
but  the  applause  called  forth  by  his  fumble  was 
the  last  straw ;  and,  goaded  to  madness,  he  turned 
and  charged  the  group  of  his  too  ardent  admirers 
and  scattered  them.  The  crowd  cheered,  and  when 
Phillip  and  Chester  found  each  other  again  they 
deemed  discretion  the  better  part  of  valour  and 
marched  back  across  the  river  in  single  file,  Chester 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  141 

imitating  a  bass  drum  and  a  cornet  alternately  and 
Phillip  singing  "Hard  Luck"  and  cheering  for 
everything  he  could  think  of. 

"Anyhow,"  said  Chester,  when  they  had  reached 
Phillip's  room  and  had  subsided,  weary  and  pant- 
ing, onto  the  couch  and  had  been  duly  licked  by 
Maid,  "that  evens  up  things  with  Guy.  I  move 
that  we  forgive  him  for  introducing  us  to  the 
Christian  Association  chap." 

"  Seconded, "  cried  Phillip. 

"Moved  and  carried,"  cried  Chester.  "He  is 
forgave !" 

Then  came  one  dismal  and  dripping  morning 
when  Phillip  cut  two  recitations  to  stand  in  line  in 
the  little  stuffy  post-office  and  await  his  turn  to 
receive  Yale  game  tickets,  which  were  distributed 
by  registered  mail.  Kingsford  had  promised  to 
come  at  half  past  ten  and  relieve  him,  but  he  evi- 
dently thought  better  of  it,  for  that  hour  passed 
without  his  appearance.  The  line  began  at  the 
last  window  and  then  wound  and  rewound  about 
the  room,  flanked  on  either  side  by  pools  of  water 
from  wet  umbrellas.  The  crowd,  which  was  good- 
naturedly  impatient,  broke  into  cheers  on  the 
slightest  provocation — such  as  the  advent  of  some 


1 42  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

fellow  of  prominence  in  college  or  the  advance  of 
the  line  after  a  long  delay  occasioned  by  the  tem- 
porary disappearance  of  some  one's  envelope. 

Whenever  an  envelope  revealed  the  obnoxious 
green  tickets  of  the  west  stand  groans  of  sympathy 
nerved  the  recipient  to  a  show  of  fortitude.  All 
sorts  of  awful  tales  illustrating  the  depravity  of 
the  committee  in  charge  of  the  distribution  were 
told,  while  a  small  junior  with  a  head  for  figures 
proved  conclusively  that  the  34,000  seats  would  be 
gone  long  before  the  season  ticket  holders  were 
reached.  He  did  this  by  covering  a  ground-glass 
window  with  numerals  and  breaking  the  point  of 
his  fountain  pen.  Phillip  had  digested  a  wealth 
of  information  regarding  the  pernicious  habits  of 
the  gypsy  moth  and  the  methods  of  extermination, 
and  was  two-thirds  of  the  way  down  the  list  of 
advertised  letters  when  Guy  Bassett  appeared. 

"I'll  match  you  to  see  whether  I  take  your  place 
and  get  your  tickets  or  whether  you  keep  your  place 
and  get  mine,"  he  said. 

They  matched  and  Phillip  won.  Guy  took  his 
place  with  a  sigh. 

"If  I  don't  show  up  by  to-morrow  night,"  he  said, 
"write  to  my  folks  and  tell  them  I  perished  nobly 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  143 

in  penormance  of  my  duty.  How  long  have  you 
been  circulating  around  this  picturesque  and  well- 
ventilated  salon?" 

"About  an  hour  and  a  quarter,"  answered  Phillip. 
''Seems  to  me  it's  a  mighty  poor  arrangement. 
Why  can't  they  give  out  the  tickets  at  the  Union 
or  somewhere?  I've  heard  lots  of  fellows  kicking 
about  it." 

"Really?"  asked  Guy.  "And — speak  lower!— 
did  you  by  any  possibility  overhear  any  one  suggest 
writing  to  the  Crimson  about  it?  Don't  be  afraid 
to  answer;  I'm  discretion  itself." 

"Why,  yes,  I  heard  several.     Why  ?" 

"Thank  Heaven  !"  said  Guy  fervently.  "The  old 
spirit  that  refuses  to  endure  unjust  oppression  is 
still  with  us.  Just  so  long  as  we  have  the  courage 
to  write  to  the  Crimson  protesting  against  the 
'present  unsatisfactory  method  of  distributing  the 
Yale  game  tickets'  the  cause  of  liberty  is  not  lost ! 
Varian — he's  an  editor  or  an  office  boy  or  a  printer's 
devil  or  something  on  the  Crimson — told  me  yester- 
day that  they're  going  to  issue  a  special  sixteen-page 
paper  this  year  to  accommodate  the  letters  from 
indignant  subscribers.  I'm  going  to  write  myself; 
I  promised  him  I  would.  And  you  ought  to,  too. 


i44  THE  LAND  OF  JOY 

It's  your  duty.  Think  it  over.  And,  by  the  way, 
if  you  care  about  getting  these  tickets,  you'd  better 
call  at  my  room  this  afternoon  about  four.  So  long. ' ' 

When  Phillip  got  the  tickets  he  was  inclined  to 
follow  Guy's  advice  and  "register  a  kick."  There 
were  six  of  them,  two  of  his  own,  two  for  Kingsford 
and  two  for  a  fellow  named  Muir,  and  they  were 
half-way  up  the  South  Stand  and  just  back  of  the 
ten -yard  line.  But  Kingsford  said  it  didn't  matter ; 
that  he  wasn't  going  to  watch  a  lot  of  sluggers 
wrestle  about  in  the  mud ;  that  he  had  other  things 
to  do  during  the  game. 

"Oh!"  said  Phillip.  "Well,  that's  well  enough 
for  you;  you've  got  your  friend.  But  how  about 
me?" 

"Why,  you  ingrate  !  Haven't  I  agreed  to  put  you 
between  the  mater  and  my  sister?  The  mater  will 
tell  you  all  about  the  strange  ailments  that  visited 
me  when  I  was  a  babe  in  arms,  and  how  from  the  very 
earliest  moment  I  gave  indications  of  the  intellect 
that  is  now  making  me  famous.  And  Betty  will 
recite  Thoreau  or  Emerson  to  you  dreamily,  and  ask 
you  whether  you  think  you're  what  you  could  have 
been  had  you  been  other  than  what  you  are — or 
words  to  that  effect." 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY  145 

Phillip  looked  frightened. 

"I  reckon  you'd  better  let  me  have  that  end  seat," 
he  said  dejectedly.  ' '  I  don't  know  how  to  talk  about 
Emerson  or  Thoreau.  I  didn't  even  know  he  pro- 
nounced his  name  that  way — Thoreau,  I  mean. 
They'll  think  I'm  an  awful  fool,  won't  they?" 

"Cheer  up  !"  laughed  Kingsford.  "Maybe  they 
won't  guess  it.  Anyhow,  I  promise  not  to  tell." 

On  the  Tuesday  evening  preceding  the  game 
Phillip  went  with  Chester  and  Guy  to  the  Union 
and  fought  his  way  with  them  to  seats  in  the  rear 
of  the  Common  Room,  denuded  of  its  rugs  and  tables 
and  easy-chairs  for  the  occasion.  The  room  was 
crowded  to  suffocation  long  before  the  meeting  was 
to  begin,  and  the  air  was  blue  with  tobacco  smoke 
that  wreathed  and  eddied  fantastically  about  the 
big  chandelier  of  spreading  antlers.  The  enthusiasm 
was  already  bubbling,  and  the  fellows  were  whistling 
softly  and  talking  and  rustling  the  slips  on  which 
were  printed  the  words  of  the  songs  they  were  to 
practise.  A  platform  had  been  erected  at  one  end 
of  the  room,  in  front  of  the  big  fireplace  and  under 
the  bust  of  John  Harvard,  and  onto  it  there  presently 
filed  the  speakers  and  an  assortment  of  coaches. 
The  Senior  Class  President,  as  master  of  ceremonies, 


i46  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

led  the  cheering  that  thundered  up  against  the 
paneled  walls  and  ceiling :  first  for  the  President  of 
the  University;  then  for  a  well-loved  and  kindly 
faced  man  whose  generosity  had  made  possible  the 
building  of  the  Union ;  then  for  another  who  had 
given  liberally;  and  then  for  the  coaches,  one  after 
another,  and  the  team,  and,  lastly,  for  "Harvard ! 
Harvard !  Harvard !" 

The  speakers  spoke,  the  band  played,  and  1,400 
men  cheered  joyously.  Phillip  looked  about  him  at 
the  earnest  faces  bent  forward  in  close  attention  to 
the  speakers  or  thrown  slightly  back  to  give  vent 
to  the  deep-voiced  cheers  and  felt  an  odd,  unaccus- 
tomed warming  at  the  heart  and  a  sort  of  tingling  in 
his  veins.  There  was  an  atmosphere  of  comradeship 
there  that  was  good  to  feel.  He  wondered  if  the 
others  were  experiencing  the  same  glow  of  good- 
fellowship  and  patriotism  that  he  was.  He  was 
certain  Chester  was.  As  to  Guy  he  could  not  be  so 
sure.  He  was  leaning  back  with  half -closed  eyes, 
puffing  hard  on  a  little  blackened  briar  pipe.  For 
awhile  Phillip  forgot  the  speaker  and  his  eyes  ranged 
about  the  room,  seeking  out  the  panels  which,  here 
and  there,  were  carved  with  the  names  of  men  whom 
their  alma  mater  was  proud  to  so  honour.  Perhaps, 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  147 

he  dreamed,  some  day  his  own  name  would  stand 
out  from  one  of  the  oaken  panels.  He  picked  one 
out,  modestly  choosing  one  far  up  in  a  corner,  and 
tried  to  picture  the  words  "Phillip  Scott  Ryerson" 
thereon,  and  wondered  whether  the  decorations 
would  be  of  oak  leaves  or  laurel  or  what. 

His  musings  were  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  burst 
of  long-drawn  "A-a-ays,"  that  soft,  exhaled  applause 
peculiar  to  college  men.  Then  the  cheers  burst 
forth  again,  and  the  fellow  on  his  left,  a  fellow  whom 
he  had  never  seen  before,  brought  his  hand  down  with 
a  resounding  smack  on  Phillip's  knee;  and  then, 
instead  of  apologizing,  only  smiled  and  nodded; 
and  Phillip  smiled  back  as  though  it  was  quite  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  After  the  speeches 
were  finished  the  band  had  its  innings,  and  the 
junior  who  had  borne  the  crimson  megaphone  in  the 
march  to  the  field  climbed  onto  the  platform  and 
told  them  earnestly  that  th2  singing  had  got  to  be 
improved  and  that  they  would  start  off  with"  Glory 
for  the  Crimson,"  and  please  wouldn't  every  fellow 
learn  all  the  songs  by  heart?  And  every  fellow 
declared  loudly  that  he  would ;  and  the  band  struck 
up,  the  leader  waved  his  hands  and  the  assembly 
broke  forth  into : 


148  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  Raise  the  Crimson  ensign  to  the  place  it  held  of  yore ! 
In  the  loyal  spirit  that  shall  live  forevermore  ! 
The  sun  will  set  in  Crimson  as  the  sun  has  set  before ! 
For  this  is  Harvard's  day  ! " 

After  it  was  all  over,  after  they  had  stood  and 
sung  "Fair  Harvard"  through — most  of  them  repeat- 
ing the  words  of  the  first  verse  over  and  over,  for  the 
reason  that  it  is  a  matter  of  precedent  never  to  know 
anything  but  the  first  verse — after  he  had  dropped 
Guy  in  the  square,  Phillip  went  home  and,  seizing 
pen  and  paper  impatiently,  told  "Dear  little  Mamma 
and  Margey"  all  about  it. 


CHAPTER  X 

UNDER  a  leaden  sky,  buffeted  by  an  icy  wind 
from  the  east,  some  thirty-four  thousand  persons 
huddled  upon  the  towering  stands  that  completely 
inclosed  the  field,  shivering  under  coats  and  rugs  and 
furs,  stamping  their  chilled  feet,  and  all  the  while, 
in  the  manner  of  Anglo-Americans,  laughing  at 
physical  discomfort  so  long  as  athletic  prowess  was 
the  reward. 

.  The  bare,  unlovely  expanses  of  yellow  pine  boards 
were  no  longer  visible.  From  the  gridiron  the  slop- 
ing banks  of  humanity  might,  for  all  evidence  the 
eye  could  obtain,  have  hidden  tiers  of  marble  seats 
like  some  huge  amphitheatre  of  old.  The  effect  was 
of  substantiality  and  permanence. 

The  sky  was  colourless,  the  earth  dun.  Nature 
was  in  a  mood  of  somberness  and  showed  no  favour- 
itism ;  neither  crimson  nor  blue  was  included  in  her 
colour  scheme.  But  within  the  crowded  inclosure 
the  scene  was  brightly  tinted.  The  upward  sloping 
backgrounds  were  dull  and  sad  enough,  to  be  sure — 

149 


150  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

gray  and  brown,  and  black ;  but  against  them  every- 
where, from  corner  to  corner,  from  top  to  bottom, 
trembled  specks  of  crimson  and  blue  like  roses  and 
gentians  fluttering  in  the  wind.  Nearer  at  hand 
the  blossoms  resolved  themselves  into  flags,  ribbons 
and  bouquets.  Even  the  score-cards  added  their 
touches  of  colour,  while  thousands  of  bright  red 
megaphones  and  hundreds  of  toy  crimson  balloons 
bobbed  and  swayed.  The  north  stand  was  darkly 
cerulean  from  end  to  end ;  the  south  stand  warmly, 
deeply  red;  while  the  end  tiers  owned  allegiance  to 
Harvard  save  where,  here  and  there,  a  Yale  banner 
flaunted  defiantly  like  a  sapphire  set  amidst  rubies. 
There  was  sound  as  well  as  colour.  Thirty-four 
thousand  voices  arose  in  talk  and  laughter,  song 
and  cheer.  Near  the  centre  of  the  south  side  was 
a  table.  On  the  table  stood  the  junior  with  the 
crimson  megaphone.  In  front  of  him  was  the  band, 
increased  in  numbers  since  its  last  appearance,  and 
beyond  the  band,  stretching  upward  and  away  to 
the  sky  line,  was  the  cheering  section.  When  the 
megaphone  waved  the  band  played  and  a  thousand 
voices  sang.  After  the  songs  came  cheers,  stately, 
thunderous,  roared  out  from  thousands  of  lusty 
throats. 


THE  LAND   OF  JOY  .  151 

Across  the  field,  on  the  north  side,  every  vocal 
challenge  was  accepted.  Yale  sang  and  shouted 
her  slogans  incessantly.  Her  numbers  were  fewer, 
but  there  were  strong  lungs  behind  the  deep  blue 
banners,  and  when  a  handful  of  blue-stockinged 
warriors  ran  into  sight  it  was  as  though  New  Haven 
and  not  Cambridge  was  the  scene  of  battle.  The 
throngs  at  the  entrances  had  thinned  out  now,  and 
numbed  fingers  were  drawing  watches  from  pockets 
hidden  under  many  thicknesses  of  coats  and  mufflers. 
And  then  onto  the  rectangle  of  faded  turf  trotted  a 
little  squad  of  men  in  nice  new  black  sweaters 
adorned  with  crimson  H's,  and  pandemonium  broke 
loose.  And  when,  after  many  minutes,  comparative 
quiet  settled  over  the  scene,  a  whistle  blew  shrilly, 
and  Harvard  and  Yale  were  again  at  battle. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  of  that  host  of  onlookers 
there  was  only  one  who  did  not  see  the  Yale  lef tguard 
send  the  ball  corkscrewing  to  Harvard's  fifteen-yard 
line  and  into  the  arms  of  the  Harvard  captain. 
John  North,  watching  from  the  side  line,  saw  it; 
David  Meadowcamp,  sitting  beside  his  father  and 
for  once  wide  awake,  saw  it;  Chester  and  Guy, 
enthroned  half-way  up  the  cheering  section,  saw  it ; 
Everett  Kingsford  saw  it;  Miss  Mildred  Wayland, 


,152  .  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

who  sat  beside  him;  and  the  obliging  Muir;  and 
Kingsford's  mother;  and  his  sister  Betty.  The  one 
who  did  not  see  it  was  Phillip. 

He  was  looking  at  Betty. 

Phillip  had  spent  the  morning  in  a  condition  of 
funk.  He  wished  heartily  that  he  hadn't  agreed  to 
Kingsford's  request ;  the  prospect  of  sitting  for  two 
hours  between  an  elderly  woman  who  would  tell  him 
of  Everett's  infantile  adventures  and  maladies  and 
a  girl  who  would  talk  to  him  about  Thoreau  and 
Emerson  and  —  horror  of  horrors  ! — possibly  his 
soul,  was  appalling.  Thoreau  and  Emerson  didn't 
interest  him  greatly  as  yet,  and  being  a  very  healthy 
young  gentleman,  with  a  good  digestion  and  scant 
knowledge  of  such  a  thing  as  a  liver,  he  never  con- 
sidered his  soul  at  all.  The  idea  of  being  taken 
suddenly  ill  with  some  strange  and  serious  ailment 
occurred  to  him,  but  as  that  would  necessitate  his 
remaining  away  from  the  game,  since  tickets  were 
at  a  prohibitive  price,  he  gave  it  up.  To  miss  the 
smallest  portion  of  the  contest  was  not  to  be  thought 
of  for  an  instant;  better  far  to  perish  a  victim  to 
friendship. 

He  was  to  meet  Kingsford  and  his  party  in  the 
square  at  half  past  one.  Most  of  the  fellows  at  his 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  153 

table  were  either  having  lunch  in  town  or  heroically 
braving  the  restaurants  in  company  with  friends  or 
relatives,  and  Phillip  had  the  table  practically  to 
himself.  The  question  whether  to  wear  a  nice  new 
rain-coat  or  an  old  ulster  had  bothered  him  all  the 
forenoon,  and  he  had  decided  in  favour  of  the  ulster. 
But  after  lunch  a  sudden  realization  of  its  unloveli- 
ness  came  to  him,  and  he  stole  back  to  his  room  by 
way  of  Mount  Auburn  Street,  so  as  not  to  encounter 
Kingsford  in  the  square,  and  donned  the  rain-coat. 
A  girl  is  a  girl,  he  reflected,  even  if  she  talks  phi- 
losophy and  psychology ! 

He  found  Kingsford  waiting  for  him,  surrounded 
by  three  ladies  and  a  retiring  fellow  who,  he  supposed, 
must  be  Muir.  Kingsford  accused  him  of  tardiness 
in  one  breath  and  introduced  him  to  the  rest  of  the 
party  in  another ;  and  then  started  them  off  uncere- 
moniously through  the  throng  in  the  direction  of 
Soldiers'  Field.  Phillip  found  himself  with  Mrs. 
Kingsford,  and  after  a  first  moment  of  bewilderment 
realized  that  his  picture  of  a  rather  garrulous  elderly 
and  white-haired  lady  was  all  wrong.  Everett's 
mother  looked  to  be  about  twenty-five,  and  was  so 
beautiful  and  so  gracious  that  Phillip  would  have  for- 
given her  had  she  launched  at  once  into  a  catalogue 


154  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

of  the  diseases  of  children  and  their  remedies.  But 
she  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  Instead  she  talked 
charmingly  of  everyday  affairs,  whimsically  antici- 
pated being  ill  for  weeks  to  come  as  a  result  of  sitting 
outdoors  in  such  weather,  asked  one  or  two  sensible 
questions  regarding  football,  good-naturedly  criti- 
cized the  persons  and  objects  they  passed  in  their 
mad,  headlong  career  out  Boylston  Street,  and 
was  altogether  so  captivating  that  by  the  time  they 
had  fought  their  way  into  the  grounds  Phillip's 
one  desire  in  life  was  to  sit  beside  her  and  listen  to 
her  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 

When  they  reached  their  seats,  after  a  long  and 
tedious  climb  which  Kingsford  declared  was  harder 
than  ascending  the  Jungfrau,  Muir,  who  had  walked 
with  Betty  from  the  square,  was  detailed  to  the 
farther  seat.  Kingsford  sent  his  mother  in  next, 
then  Phillip,  followed  by  Betty,  Miss  Wayland  and 
himself.  It  was  not  until  then  that  Phillip  had  a 
fair  look  at  the  young  lady  who  was  to  talk  Emerson 
and  Thoreau  to  him.  And  it  was  then  that  he 
experienced  his  second  surprise.  Betty  Kingsford 
was  small,  rather  slight,  with  a  good  deal  of  very 
rebellious  hair  of  a  light  brown  shade  which  Phillip 
didn't  remember  ever  having  seen  before,  and  which 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  155 

was  continually  being  blown  across  her  face  and 
continually  drawn  away  again.  Her  eyes  were 
deeply  brown.  Phillip  discovered  this  just  after 
Harvard  had  made  her  first  touchdown,  and  the 
discovery,  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  came  to  him 
as  a  shock  and  seemed  for  weeks  afterward  to  be 
the  most  wonderful  and  momentous  discovery  of 
recent  years.  Her  cheeks  were  like — well,  to  use 
Phillip's  own  simile,  a  simile  which  he  honestly 
believed  he  had  invented,  they  were  like  wild  pink 
roses.  When  she  laughed,  which  was  frequently, 
she  showed  a  number  of  small  and  very  even  teeth  of 
marvelous  whiteness.  When  she  smiled,  which  was 
pretty  much  all  the  time,  she  caused  a  dimple  to 
appear  on  each  cheek.  After  that  day  the  tune  of 
"Up  the  Street"  was  associated  in  Phillip's  mind 
with  pink  cheeks  and  dimples,  laughing  brown  eyes, 
and  wind-loosened  tresses.  Phillip's  chronology  of 
the  game  would,  if  written,  run  something  like  this : 

2  P.  M.     First  spoke  to  Miss  Kingsford. 

2:15  Discovered  that  her  eyes  were  dark-brown 
and  that  her  hair  was  the  colour  of  beech  leaves  in 
autumn. 

2 12  5  The  left-hand  dimple  is  a  trifle  deeper  than 
the  right-hand  dimple. 


156  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

2 130  She  has  the  nicest,  rippling  sort  of  a  laugh 
you  ever  heard. 

2:45  Our  hands  touched  under  the  rug;  I  don't 
think  she  knew  it. 

2  15  5    She  likes  Virginia  and  has  been  in  our  part 
of  it. 

3  105    She  dropped  her  score-card.     It  went  under 
the  seat  and  she  accepted  mine. 

3:15  She  is  going  to  make  Everett  give  a  tea  in 
his  room  some  afternoon.  I  am  to  be  there. 

3 130  She  leaned  across  me  to  talk  to  her  mother 
and  her  hair  blew  against  my  face.  It  smelled 
awfully  sweet,  like  violets  or — or  something. 

3 140  We  all  stood  up  and  shouted  and  waved 
our  arms.  When  we  sat  down  again  she  let  me  tuck 
the  rug  about  her.  She  laughed. 

3 150  I  am  going  to  call  some  afternoon.  And  I 
am  to  go  in  for  dinner  some  night;  her  mother 
asked  me. 

3 155  When  we  got  up  I  found  her  score-card  and 
she  said  I  might  keep  it.  I  kept  it.  Harvard  won. 
I  don't  know  the  score. 

If  you  were  to  remonstrate  with  Phillip  about 
the  incompleteness  of  this  history  of  what  was  a  great 
and,  from  a  Harvard  viewpoint,  a  glorious  event,  he 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  157 

would  probably  tell  you  to  read  the  papers.  And 
I  shall  do  the  same.  In  them  you  will  find  a  very 
succinct  and  interesting  account  of  that  game,  with 
all  sorts  of  pictures  made  the  day  before  and  wonder- 
ful and  confusing  diagrams  showing  where  the  ball 
was  every  minute  of  the  time.  But  they  won't  tell 
you  what  Betty  said  when  Phillip  expressed  a  fear 
that  she  was  cold,  nor  what  Phillip  answered  when 
Betty  asked  him  if  he  danced,  nor  how  Betty  looked 
when  Phillip  asked  if  she  would  mind  very  much  if 
he  called  some  old  day.  But,  for  that  matter, 
neither  will  I. 

Between  the  halves,  when  the  day  was  already 
won  and  frantic  wearers  of  the  Crimson  were  shout- 
ing themselves  hoarse,  and  delighted  coaches  were 
thumping  each  other's  shoulders  and  shaking  hands 
on  the  slightest  excuse ;  when  the  last  of  the  liberated 
toy  balloons  were  speeding  off  into  the  gray  distance 
and  the  tramp,  tramp  of  numbed  feet  made  a  martial 
accompaniment  to  the  joyous  talk  and  laughter, 
Everett  Kingsford  leaned  over  and  addressed  him- 
self to  Phillip. 

"How  do  you  and  Betty  agree  on  Emerson?"  he 
asked  gravely. 

"Emerson?"     Phillip  stared  blankly. 


158  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

' '  Emerson  ?   Who  is  he  ?"    Betty  looked  perplexed. 

Kingsford  laughed  and  turned  back  to  Miss 
Wayland. 

Phillip  could  hear  him  talking  in  low  tones  to  her 
and  presently  she  was  laughing  softly.  Betty 
demanded  to  be  told.  Betty's  demands  were 
already  law.  Phillip  explained.  Betty  frowned 
charmingly. 

"Everett's  always  making  fun  of  me,"  she 
declared.  "I'm  afraid  you've  already  discovered 
how  ignorant  I  am,  Mr.  Ryerson.  I — I  don't 
know  a  thing,  really  and  truly !  Do  you  care 
much  for  Emerson  and  Thoreau?" 

"Hate  them  both,"  answered  Phillip  heartily. 

"Oh,  but  you  mustn't  hate  them  !" 

"Mustn't  I?" 

' '  No ;  you  must  just  not  care  a  great  deal  for  them." 

"Very  well,  I  don't  care  a  great  deal  for  them, 
Miss  Kingsford." 

"That's  nice,"  answered  Betty,  apparently  much 
relieved.  "I  respect  them  both,  of  course,  and 
think  they  were  really  very  great  men,  but  I  don't 
think  people  have  any  right  to  talk  about  them  the 
way  they  do.  Now  that  they're  dead,  why  can't 
they  be  left  in  peace?" 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  159 

"I  know.     It's — it's  mighty  mean,  I  think." 

"Yes.  Then  you're  not — not  disappointed?" 
asked  Betty.  "You  don't  mind  if  I  don't  talk  to 
you  about  your  soul,  and  Emerson,  and  the  other 
man?" 

"Disappointed !"  cried  Phillip.  "I'm  mightily 
pleased." 

"Honestly?  And  you  don't  think  I'm  frightfully 
ignorant?" 

"I  think— I  think " 

"Yes?" 

Phillip  was  looking  at  her  very,  very  ardently 
and  Betty  dropped  her  dark-brown  eyes  and 
studied  her  score-card. 

"I  think  you're But  there  he  stopped 

again.  He  didn't  dare. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  tell  me?"  asked  Betty  in 
apparent  surprise.  She  darted  a  glance  at  him 
and  straightway  decided  not  to  press  the  subject. 
There  are  more  fitting  places  than  a  crowded 
grand  stand  for  hearing  certain  things. 

"I'll — I'll  tell  you  some  day,"  answered  Phillip 
softly. 

"O-oh!"  murmured  Betty.  "I  suppose,  then, 
I  shall  have  to  wait,  shan't  I  ?"  she  asked  cheerfully. 


160  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Phillip  wished  she  had  exhibited  a  less  philosophic 
spirit. 

"Oh,  I  daresay  you  don't  care  very  much  what  I 
think,"  he  said  rather  aggrievedly.  Betty  shook 
her  head  and  for  the  hundredth  time  pushed  a  lock 
of  pale  brown  hair  from  her  face. 

"But  I  do,  of  course,"  she  answered  gravely.  "I 
like  people  to  think — well  of  me,  and  especially 
Everett's  friends." 

"Oh,"  said  Phillip.  Then,  with  elaborate  care- 
lessness, "I  suppose  he  has  lots  of  friends,  hasn't  he  ?" 

"M-m,  yes,  a  good  many,  I  guess." 

"And — er — do  they  all — that  is— 

"Like  me?"  asked  Betty  without  embarrassment. 
"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  And — and  I  don't  care 
whether  some  do,  after  all.  I  guess  it's  only  the 
ones  I  like  that — I  like  to-  have  like  me."  She 
laughed  merrily.  "Can  you  understand  all  that 
rigmarole?" 

"You  said  you  cared  what  I  thought,"  said  Phillip 
rashly. 

"Did  I?" 

"Didn't  you?" 

"I  may  have.     Why?" 

"Oh — why,  because  if  you  care  what  I  think  and 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  161 

you  only  care  what  people   that    you  like  think, 
why — why— 

"Oh,  dear,"  cried  Betty,  "that's  worse  than 
Emerson !  And  you  know  I  don't  care  a  great 
deal  for  Emerson." 

"Nor  me,  I  reckon,"  muttered  Phillip.  Betty 
turned  a  look  of  surprise  upon  him. 

"But  I've  only  known  you  half  an  hour!"  she 
objected. 

"It's  nearly  an  hour,"  corrected  Phillip. 

"Really?     It  doesn't  seem  that  long,  does  it?" 

"No  !"  he  answered  fervently.  And  was  comforted. 

Yes,  dear  reader,  that  is  a  very  fair  sample  of 
their  discourse ;  not  startlingly  interesting  to  you,  or 
to  me,  but  to  Phillip  one  of  the  most  brilliant, 
absorbing  conversations  ever  held  since  Adam  and 
Eve  first  exchanged  views  on  the  weather.  When 
the  game  was  over  and  Phillip  had  piloted  Betty 
down  the  steps  as  carefully  as  though  she  had  been 
a  piece  of  favrile  glass  instead  of  the  very  healthy 
and  able  young  lady  she  was,  and  when  they  had 
paused  for  a  moment  to  view  the  tempestuous  scene 
before  them,  in  which  a  dozen  or  so  of  crimson- 
sleeved  players  rose  and  sank  in  a  sea  of  swaying 
enthusiasts,  Betty  turned  to  him. 


i62  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Wasn't  it  glorious  !"  she  cried. 

And  Phillip,  looking  straight  into  her  eyes,  and 
having  in  mind  something  entirely  apart  from  the 
victory,  answered  simply  and  sincerely: 

"Great!" 


CHAPTER  XI 

PHILLIP  awoke  the  next  forenoon  with  the  sun 
shining  warmly  across  his  face,  the  church  bells 
tolling  and  Tudor  Maid  anxiously  awaiting  break- 
fast. His  first  feeling  was  one  of  dissatisfaction 
at  the  nastiness  of  his  mouth  and  the  heaviness  of 
his  head.  But  before  his  eyes  had  blinked  twice 
the  memory  of  the  preceding  afternoon  came  to 
him.  He  smiled  happily,  turned  over,  laid  his 
tousled  brown  head  on  one  arm  and  stared  unsee- 
ingly  at  the  chimney  of  the  next  house.  Twenty 
minutes  passed.  Maid  arose,  sniffed  inquiringly  at 
his  hand,  sighed,  and  flopped  herself  down  again 
in  the  patch  of  sunlight.  Phillip  laughed  aloud 
at  some  recollection  and  woke  himself  from  his 
dreaming.  Jumping  blithely  out  of  bed,  he  fed 
Maid  from  the  store  of  biscuits  kept  in  the  closet 
for  just  such  emergencies— a  repast  which  the  dog 
accepted  under  protest — took  his  bath  and  dressed 
himself,  singing  "Up  the  Street"  martially  and 
pausing  suddenly  in  the  middle  of  a  bar  to  stand 

163 


1 64  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

motionless  and  smile  idiotically  at  his  reflection  in 
the  mirror. 

Phillip  was  in  love.  And  he  knew  it.  And  he 
wouldn't  have  been  in  any  other  condition  for  all 
the  wealth  of  the  world. 

He  was  riotously  happy ;  happy  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  he  had  made  a  fool  of  himself  the  evening 
before,  that  his  head  felt  as  though  it  had  been 
bored  open  and  filled  with  lead,  that  his  mouth,  in 
spite  of  numerous  draughts  of  water  cold  from  the 
bathroom  faucet,  tasted  as  he  imagined  the  inside 
of  a  brass  pipe  must  taste,  that  he  would  have  to  go 
to  a  restaurant  for  breakfast,  and  that  he  didn't 
want  breakfast  anyway. 

He  took  Maid  with  him  to  a  subterraneous  lunch 
room  in  the  square  and  fed  her  lamb  chops  and 
doughnuts,  finding  that  his  own  appetite  refused 
anything  save  coffee  and  toast.  Afterward — it 
was  too  late  for  church — he  walked  up  the  avenue 
past  Porter's  Station,  struck  off  northward  and 
got  lost  in  darkest  Somerville.  Maid  had  a 
glorious  time  of  it,  and  Phillip,  when  he  at  last 
reached  The  Inn  for  lunch,  found  that  he  had 
walked  the  lead  out  of  his  head  and  the  bad 
taste  from  his  mouth.  When  he  had  finished  his 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  165 

lunch  he  went  upstairs  and  found  John  and 
Laurence  Baker. 

"Are  you  going  back  to  your  room?"  he  asked 
the  former.  "  I  want  to  see  you  for  a  few  minutes. " 

"  All  right.     Sit  down.     Have  you  had  lunch  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Phillip.  "I'll  wait  for  you." 
He  sprawled  himself  out  on  the  window-seat  in  the 
sunlight  and  tried  to  interest  himself  in  the  Sunday 
paper,  aware  all  the  while  that  Baker  was  eyeing 
him  quizzically  across  the  table. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  kid  brother  lately,  Ryerson  ? " 
asked  Baker  presently. 

"I  was  with  him  last  night,"  answered  Phillip 
from  behind  the  sheet.  "  We  were  in  town. " 

"Ah;  indeed?  Haven't  seen  him  this  morning 
yet?" 

"No." 

"Well,  you  ought  to!"  Baker  pushed  back  his 
chair,  grinning  broadly.  At  the  sideboard  he  took 
up  the  water  pitcher  and  stared  dolefully  into  its 
empty  depths.  "I  say,  John,  has  it  ever  occurred 
to  you  that  Cambridge  water  is  at  times  awfully 
dry?  I'll  swear  I've  got  away  with  six  glasses  and 
my  throat's  still  sizzling.  Well,  so  long. " 

When  he  had  gone  Phillip  tossed  aside  the  paper 


i66  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

and  faced  John.  The  latter  met  his  look  calmly 
and  poured  himself  another  glass  of  milk. 

"  Well,  Phil,  we  came  out  on  top, "  he  said. 

"  Yes.  I  reckon  you're  mightily  pleased.  And — 
and  every  one." 

"Pleased  is  no  name  for  it;  we're  in  the  seventh 
heaven  of  delight.  It  was  beautifully  decisive, 
you  see;  there  were  no  freaks  of  luck;  it  was  all 
straight  football,  with  every  score  well  earned. 
This  is  my  last  year  here,  and  I'm  glad  we  finished 
up  with  a  victory.  It  sort  of  rounds  out  things,  if 
you  know  what  I  mean. " 

"Yes."  Phillip  stared  absently  at  his  hands. 
Then  he  faced  John  again.  "Look  here,  John,  tell 
me  about  last  night.  Did  I — was  I  very  bad  ? " 

"Fair  to  middling,"  answered  the  other.  "How 
did  it  happen,  Phil?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  quite  know.  Chester  said  we'd 
ought  to  go  into  town  for  dinner.  You  see,  we  had 
seats  for  the  theatre,  and — we  went  to  some  queer 
dives  and  ate  a  lot  of  nasty  stuff  and  drank — quite 
a  bit;  some  sort  of  white  wine.  No,  we  had  cock- 
tails first.  We  met  Guy  Bassett  and  Boerick  and 
Frazer  and  some  other  fellows  at  the  theatre,  and 
we  went  out  and  drank  some  more  stuff.  I  reckon 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  167 

it  was  champagne;  I  don't  remember.  Then  the 
others  went  off  somewhere  and  Chester  and  I  sat 
down — no,  we  didn't  sit  down,  because  some  fellows 
had  our  seats  and  wouldn't  get  out.  That's  what 
started  it. " 

"I   see." 

"Yes.  We  told  them  we  had  the  checks  and 
they  said  we'd  have  to  show  them.  I  had  mine, 
but  Chester  couldn't  find  his.  So  he  grabbed  the 
nearest  fellow — the  seats  were  on  the  aisle — and 
pulled  him  onto  the  floor  and  yelled  for  me  to  slug 
the  other  chap.  So  I  slugged  him.  By  that  time 
every  one  was  standing  up  and  telling  us  to  'Go  it, 
Bill,'  and  then  they  began  to  crowd  around  us.  I 
don't  know  just  what  happened,  but  the  other 
fellow  and  I  were  having  it  under  the  seats.  There 
wasn't  room  to  do  anything  except  hold  on  to  each 
other,  and  so  we  did  that  and  called  each  other 
names.  I  remember  he  said  I  was  a  'contumelious 
cub,'  only  he  was  drunk  and  couldn't  say  it  plain, 
and  that  made  me  mad,  and " 

"And  Davy  and  I  dragged  you  both  out  by  your 
heels  and  got  you  away  from  the  strong  arm  of 
the  law,"  finished  John.  "We  had  some  trouble 
doing  it.  Chester  insisted  on  fighting  the  whole 


168  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

crowd  and  that  nearly  queered  us.  We  had  just 
managed  to  make  them  understand  that  it  was  all 
fun,  when  it  dawned  on  him  that  there  were  police 
present  and  that  it  was  his  bounden  duty  to  do 
them  up.  But  it  ended  all  right.  We  got  you  and 
Chester  into  a  hack  and  brought  you  home.  What 
became  of  Kingsford  and  that  tall,  black-haired 
youngster  I  don't  know.  But  I  guess  they  got  off 
all  right." 

"Kingsford?"  asked  Phillip,  drawing  his  brows 
together.  "Was  he  there?" 

"Was  he  there!  Do  you  mean  that  you  didn't 
know  it  was  Kingsford  you  were  mauling  under  the 
seats?" 

Phillip  groaned. 

"Honest,    John?" 

"Honest  Injun." 

"I  must  have  been  pretty  bad.  I  didn't  recog- 
nize him  at  all.  Why,  he's — he's  a  chum!"  John 
smiled. 

"Chum,  eh?  And  you  were  just  showing  him 
how  much  you  loved  him,  I  suppose?  Well,  it's 
all  past  now,  Phil.  I'm  not  sure,  though,  that  it 
isn't  my  duty  as  your — hem — guardian,  Phil,  to 
read  you  a  short  lecture. " 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  169 

"Go  ahead.  I  wish  you  would.  I  wish  you'd 
kick  me !  I — oh,  hang  it,  John,  I'm  an  awful 
dunce  !" 

"Well,  let's  get  outdoors.  Now,  I'm  not  alto- 
gether the  right  kind  to  lecture  any  one  on  the 
subject  of  getting  drunk,  Phil.  Unless,  as  I've 
seen  it  stated,  experience  is  necessary  to  the  making 
of  a  good  preacher.  In  my  own  coltish  days  I 
made  a  bit  of  an  ass  of  myself.  As  a  freshman  I 
thought  it  was  incumbent  on  me  to  drink  a  good 
deal,  and  I  have  unpleasant  recollections  of  three 
occasions  when — well,  when  I  made  as  big  a  fool  of 
myself  as  it  is  allowed  any  man.  So  you  see,  Phil, 
if  you  emulate  my  example  you've  got  two  more 
coming  to  you.  Only — well,  I  think  I'd  pattern 
myself  on  some  one  else  and  let  the  other  two  go 
by  forfeit." 

They  had  reached  Little's  and  John  led  the  way 
to  his  room,  explaining  that  David  had  returned  to 
New  York  with  his  father.  He  pushed  a  window 
wide  open  and  thrust  a  chair  up  to  it,  taking  the 
window-seat  himself,  clasping  his  big,  brown  hands 
over  his  knees.  Phillip,  looking  at  the  clear-cut 
features  and  kindly,  honest  eyes,  tried  to  associate 
them  with  scenes  of  drunken  orgies,  and  failed. 


i;o  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"I  don't  believe  you  were  ever  nasty-drunk, 
John!"  he  declared  warmly  and  with  conviction. 
John  turned,  smiling,  and  read  some  of  the  admira- 
tion in  the  other's  eyes. 

"Nonsense,"  he  said.  "I've  been  just  as  much 
of  a  brute  as  other  chaps.  Don't  try  to  make  a 
hero  of  me,  Phil;  I'm  poor  stuff. " 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  answered  Phillip,  doggedly. 

"  Don't  ?  Well— I'm  glad  you  don't,  old  man.  I 
like  people  to  like  me  and  I  want  you  to  if  you  can. " 

Phillip  smiled  at  a  recollection.  "I  reckon  you 
like  people  that  you  like  to  like  you  ? "  he  asked. 

"That's  it,"  answered  John,  reflecting  the  smile. 
"  And  that  means  I  like  you,  Phillip  of  Virginia. " 

"Oh!  I  didn't  mean  that!"  protested  Phillip. 
"I — I  was  just  quoting  somebody." 

"All  right;  you  needn't  apologize.  Now,  about 
last  night.  As  I  was  saying,  you  can  get  drunk 
pretty  often,  if  you  want  to,  without  being  any 
worse  than  some  other  fellows  in  college  who  are 
well  liked  and  respected.  But  it  won't  do  you  a 
speck  of  good,  Phil,  not  a  speck.  And  life  is  such  a 
short  track  at  the  most  that  I  don't  believe  a  fellow 
has  time  to  do  negative  things.  The  mere  fact  that 
a  thing's  not  going  to  harm  you  doesn't  make  it 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  171 

worth  doing;  stick  to  the  things  that  will  produce 
some  good,  that  will  better  you  if  only  a  little.  After 
all,  it  isn't  especially  necessary  to  get  drunk.  I  don't 
believe  that  a  fellow  who  drinks  more  than  is  good 
for  him  is  any  manlier  than  the  fellow  who  doesn't. 
Besides,  it's  an  expensive  habit,  drinking. " 

"It  is,"  agreed  Phillip  dolefully. 

"Well?" 

"Oh,  I've  quit,  John;  honestly!  Last  night  was 
enough.  I  hate  to  see  other  fellows  make  beasts  of 
themselves  and  I  hate  to  think  that  I've  gone  and 
done  it  myself.  I  don't  mean  that  I'm  going  to 
become  a  total  abstainer,  for  I  don't  think  that's 
necessary,  do  you?  We  have  always  had  wine  on 
the  table  at  home  and — and  I've  never  thought 
much  about  it.  Down  our  way  we  ride  hard  and 
drink  the  same  way.  But  I  think  you're  right  about 
it,  John,  and — and  I'm  going  to  take  mighty  good 
care  that  it  doesn't  happen  again. " 

"All  right,  Phil.  By  the  way,  have  you  heard 
from  your  folks  lately  ? " 

"Yes,  I  had  a  letter  Friday." 

"All  well,  I  hope?" 

"Yes;  except  mamma.  You  know  she's  right 
poorly  all  the  time." 


172  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"I  beg  your  pardon;  I'd  forgotten." 

"  Margey  wrote  that  they  were  both  counting  the 
days  until  Christmas.  I'm  beginning  to  look  for- 
ward to  going  home,  too." 

"  Yes.  I  wish  my  folks  were  going  to  be  at  home 
for  Christmas.  A  fellow  feels  rather  out  of  it  if  he 
can't  spend  Christmas  by  his  own  fireside.  As  it  is, 
I  suppose  I'll  go  home  with  Davy  for  a  few  days. " 

"I  wish  you'd  come  with  me,"  cried  Phillip, 
eagerly. 

"Thanks;  that's  awfully  nice  of  you.  But  I 
don't  believe  a  chap's  folks  care  very  much  about 
having  strangers  around  at  Christmas. " 

"Why,  mamma  and  Margey  would  be  awfully 
pleased,"  declared  Phillip.  "I  wish  you  would 
come.  Of  course,  we're  not  so  swell  as  David,  I 
reckon,  but  I  could  show  you  a  good  time.  We 
could  get  up  a  fox  hunt,  and  maybe  there' d  be  some 
patridges  left.  Will  you?" 

"Hm;  you  tempt  me  sorely,  my  child.  But— — 
Well,  we'll  think  it  over. " 

"I'm  sure  there'll  be  some  birds,"  continued 
Phillip,  "for  Margey  wrote  that  Nate  Willis  was 
staying  there  for  a  few  days  and  that  he'd  had  good 
shooting." 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  173 

"Who's  Nate  Willis,  may  I  ask?" 

"  Nate  ?  Well,  he's  one  of  the  Richmond  Willises, 
you  know." 

"Indeed?  And  am  I  to  presume  from  that  that 
he's  a  person  of  family  and  prominence  ?" 

"Yes,  I  reckon  so.  We're  related  in -some  way; 
mamma  knows." 

"And  is — er — is  he  a  frequent  caller  at  your 
place?" 

"Oh,  he  comes  up  right  often." 

"  I  see. "  John  drew  his  feet  off  the  cushion  and 
sat  up.  "On  second  thoughts,  Phil,  I'm  not  sure 
that  I  won't  accept  your  invitation  now.  At  any 
rate,  you  might  sound  your  folks  and  see  what  they 
think  of  entertaining  a  stranger  for  a  couple  of  days. " 

"But  you're  not  exactly  a  stranger,  you  know," 
said  Phillip. 

"Thank  you,  old  man.  What  do  you  say  to  a 
short  walk?" 

So  they  strolled  through  the  Yard,  across  the 
Delta  and  down  Divinity  Avenue  under  arching 
boughs,  bare  save  for  an  occasional  yellow  leaf 
twirling  lazily  about  in  the  afternoon  breeze.  They 
crossed  Norton's  Field,  rustling  through  the  little 
patch  of  woodland,  and  turned  back  by  Irving 


174  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Street,  pausing  to  admire  the  park-like  expanse 
whereon  are  grouped  four  highly  satisfactory 
examples  of  public  building  architecture.  John 
pointed  out  the  high  school  and  the  Latin  school, 
and  the  public  library  on  one  side  and  the 
manual  training  school  on  the  other,  and  Phillip 
looked  them  over  for  a  minute  and  then  said: 

"Now  I  understand  why  you  folks  here  in  New 
England  are  so  intellectual  and  cultured  and  all 
that.  Shucks  !  You  can't  help  being  smart  and 
knowing  a  heap  with  all  your  fine  schools  and 
libraries  and  things.  Considering  the  advantages 
you  have,  I'm  not  sure  you're  not  all  powerful 
ignorant.  Why,  a  fellow  couldn't  help  learning 
how  to  carpenter  in  a  place  like  that !"  He  nodded 
toward  the  hospitable  red  brick  building  beside 
them.  "  Come  on ;  I'm  disgusted  with  you.  You're 
a  stupid  lot  up  here.  As  my  nigger  mammy  used 
to  say,  'You  ain't  got  as  much  sense  as  a  toad-frog; 
an'  ev'ybody  knows  that  a  toad-frog's  th'  ignerantes' 
thing  as  is  ! ' 

At  the  Colonial  Club  John  piloted  Phillip  upstairs 
to  the  big,  comfortable  and  unpretentious  reading- 
room  where,  over  a  pot  of  tea  and  through  the  gray 
smoke  of  a  couple  of  very  black  cigars,  they  dis- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  175 

cussed  subjects  as  multifarious  and  inconsequent  as 
those  suggested  by  the  walrus. 

Phillip  did  not  encounter  Everett  Kingsford  until 
Monday  night,  at  the  dinner  table.  Phillip  looked 
sheepish,  and  Everett,  rising  ceremoniously,  saluted 
him  gravely. 

"Sir,  I  will  apologize  if  you  will,"  he  said. 

"I  didn't  recognize  you  at  all,"  declared  Phillip 
earnestly.  "  I  didn't  know  it  was  you  until  North 
told  me  yesterday.  I'm  awfully  sorry,  honestly." 

"Say  no  more.  But  let  this  be  a  warning  to  you 
never  to  raise  your  hand  to  your  elders  again." 

"You — you  weren't  hurt,  were  you?"  asked 
Phillip  anxiously.  The  thought  of  having  engaged 
in  combat  with  Betty's  brother  was  harrowing  and 
savoured  of  sacrilege. 

' '  Not  a  bit .     How  about  you  ? ' ' 

"Nor  I."  Presently  he  asked:  "Your  mother 
is  well,  I  hope?" 

"Quite."  And  Kingsford  grinned  exasperatingly. 
"And  so  is  Miss  Way  land,  I  believe ;  and  Muir.  And 
so  am  I." 

Phillip  applied  himself  diligently  to  his  soup  and 
strove  to  look  unconcerned. 

"Isn't  soup  a  beautiful  thing?"  asked  Kingsford. 


1 76  "THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Phillip  smiled  in  spite  of  himself. 

"You're  mighty  cute,  aren't  you?"  he  asked 
scathingly. 

"So-so;  at  least,  I  know  the  symptoms." 

"What  symptoms?" 

"Tut,  tut,  my  boy;  don't  blush !" 

"Oh,  go  to  thunder.     How's  Miss  Kingsford?" 

"Brave  and  honest  youth !  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  informing  you  that  my  sister's  health  is  much  the 
same  as  when  you  last  saw  her  some  forty-eight 
hours  ago." 

"Oh!" 

"I'll  tell  her  you  said  so,"  murmured  Kingsford 
politely. 

"Well,  now,  look  here.  I  was  asked  to  dinner  at 
your  place.  And  I  accepted.  I  wish  you'd  hurry 
things  along.  I'm  awfully  hungry." 

"Hm;  well,  I'll  see  what  can  be  done.  But  mean- 
while, why  don't  you  go  in  and  call  on  Betty  and 
get  the  edge  off  your  appetite?" 

"I'm  going  to." 

"The  deuce  you  are  !  And  I've  been  thinking  of 
you  as  a  shy  and  retiring  youth  !  Why,  Betty  told 
me  that  she  couldn't  get  a  word  out  of  you  all  during 
the  game," 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  177 

"She  didn't !" 

"Didn't  she?"  Kingsford  grinned  again.  "Well, 
maybe  she  didn't,  then.  I  guess  I  won't  tell  you 
what  she  said." 

"Go  on,  like  a  good  fellow  !     What  was  it  ?" 

"It  was  in  confidence,  my  boy.  Do  you  think  for 
a  moment  that  I  am  one  to  betray  a  sister's  confi- 
dence? Heaven  forf end !" 

"Please!" 

"What '11  you  give  me?" 

"I  refuse  to  bribe  you.     I'll  ask  her." 

"I  would.  She's  sure  to  tell  you.  Listen,  then. 
She  said  you  were  a  nice  boy  but  frightfully  cheeky." 

Phillip  moulded  a  slice  of  graham  bread  into  a 
round  wad  and  let  drive.  Kingsford  dodged  and 
it  took  one  of  the  fellows  at  the  far  end  of  the  table 
on  the  cheek.  In  the  fracas  which  inevitably  followed 
Kingsford  made  his  escape. 

Phillip  made  his  call  on  Wednesday  afternoon, 
taking  good  care  not  to  appraise  Kingsford  of  his 
intention,  since  the  latter  had  solicitously  offered 
to  accompany  him  and  by  his  presence  remove  some 
of  the  embarrassment.  The  Kingsford  residence 
on  Marlborough  Street  was  very  broad  of  front, 
very  high  of  steps  and  very  aristocratic  of  aspect, 


178  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

despite  the  fact  that  its  stone  and  brick  were  faded 
and  discoloured  by  age.  An  oriel  window,  quite 
palpably  an  addition  of  recent  years,  hung  out  over 
the  doorway  and  was  filled  with  ferns  and  carnations 
in  profuse  bloom. 

Phillip  was  ushered  into  a  surprisingly  modern 
drawing-room  and  was  presently  joined  by  Mrs. 
Kingsford.  During  the  next  five  minutes  Phillip 
watched  the  hall  door  anxiously  until  his  hostess, 
divining  his  thoughts,  remarked : 

"I'm  very  sorry  that  Elizabeth  is  not  at  home 
this  afternoon.  She  is  taking  her  painting  lesson. 
She  studies  with  Warrenton,  the  flower  painter,  and 
really  does  excellently,  we  think.  Besides,  she 
enjoys  it  greatly  and  it  gives  her  something  to  inter- 
est her.  I  tell  her  I'm  certain  she  must  inherit  her 
talent  from  me,  Mr.  Ryerson,  for  I  used  to  do  the 
most"  beautiful  pink  and  yellow  roses  on  plush 
placques  when  I  was  her  age  !  I  used  to  think  them 
very  lovely." 

"I'm  sure  they  were,"  said  Phillip  earnestly. 

After  the  first  moment  of  blank  dismay  and  dis- 
appointment, Phillip,  to  his  credit  be  it  said,  set  out 
to  make  himself  agreeable  to  Betty's  mother  and 
succeeded  admirably.  He  had  the  true  Southern 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  179 

reverence  and  courtesy  toward  women  which,  com- 
bined in  his  case  with  a  youthful  shyness,  Mrs. 
Kingsford  found  grateful  and  even  flattering.  When 
he  arose  to  go  and  took  the  hand  she  offered  him  he 
bent  over  it,  as  he  had  seen  his  father  bend  over 
his  mother's  hand  all  his  life,  almost  as  though  he 
was  going  to  touch  his  lips  to  it.  Mrs.  Kingsford 
smiled. 

"Nice  boy,"  she  said  to  herself;  and  aloud:  "You 
mustn't  forget  that  you're  to  come  in  to  dinner  some 
night  soon.  Everett  will  know  better  than  I  what 
evening  will  be  convenient  to  you,  and  so  I  shall 
leave  it  to  him.  But  don't  let  him  put  it  off  too 
long.  I  "want  you  to  meet  Mr.  Kingsford ;  he  likes 
young  men;  I  believe  he  almost  thinks  he's  one 
himself.  And  if  it's  not  greatly  out  of  your  way, 
Mr.  Ryerson,  you  might  walk  toward  the  Public 
Garden.  It's  just  possible  that  you'll  meet  Elizabeth 
coming  home.  It's  about  time,  I  think,  and  I  know 
she'd  be  sorry  to  have  missed  you  altogether." 

Phillip  threw  her  a  glance  eloquent  of  gratitude. 

' '  I  will  then, ' '  he  replied.  ' '  She  couldn't  be  nearly 
as  sorry  as  I." 

Fortune  favours  the  persevering.  At  the  end  of 
Phillip's  third  trip  between  the  house  and  the 


i8o  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

equestrian  statue  of  Washington — for  Mrs.  Kingsford 
had  not  limited  him  to  one  excursion — he  spied 
Betty,  a  captivating  figure  in  walking  skirt  and 
Norfolk  jacket,  swinging  toward  him  across  the 
bridge.  Phillip  hurried  toward  her  on  the  principle 
that  the  farther  from  home  he  met  her  the  longer  he 
would  have  to  walk  beside  her.  She  greeted  him 
quite  without  embarrassment  and  gave  him  a  small 
hand  encased  in  a  gray  glove  of  undressed  kid  that 
was  so  soft  and  snuggly  feeling  that  it  was  an  effort 
to  release  it.  Her  cheeks  were  glowing,  and  the 
light  brown  hair,  escaping  from  under  a  jaunty  felt 
hat,  was  frisking  about  just  as  he  remembered  it. 

"I've  been  to  call,"  he  announced. 

"Have  you?  I'm  sorry  I  was  out.  You  saw 
my  mother?" 

"Yes."  Then  in  a  burst  of  admiration:  "She's 
mighty  good  and  kind,  isn't  she?"  Betty  looked 
surprised. 

"Why,  of  course  she  is.     But " 

"You  see,  she  told  me  that  I  might  find  you  if  I 
came  this  way." 

"Oh,"  said  Betty,  "did  she  ?"  They  were  walking 
toward  the  house.  Phillip  was  dawdling  disgrace- 
fully. 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  181 

"Yes ;  and  so  I  came  this  way — three  times."  He 
looked  to  see  how  she  would  accept  this  proof  of 
devotion  and  was  rewarded  with  the  sight  of  a  little 
demure  smile. 

"You — you  were  very  kind  to  waste  your  time  on 
me,"  she  replied  gravely. 

"Betty!" 

Phillip  was  certain  afterward,  when  he  thought 
it  over,  that  he  didn't  say  it — that  it  just  escaped  in 
the  manner  and  with  all  the  unexpectedness  of  a 
Jack-in-the-box  when  the  latch  is  loosed.  Betty 
shot  a  sudden  glance  at  him  and  then  looked  across 
the  street.  Phillip  took  a  long  breath. 

"I — -I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  earnestly.  "I 

didn't  mean It  came  out,  you  know  !"  Betty 

laughed  a  trifle  nervously,  her  face  still  averted. 

"Yes,  it  did  'come  out,'  didn't  it?"  she  asked. 
Then,  severely,  coldly :  "Is  it  the  custom  in  Virginia, 
Mr.  Ryerson,  to  address  girls  by  their — their  first 
names  the  second  time  you  meet  them  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Phillip,  miserably.  "And  I'm 
very  sorry.  Won't  you— can't  you  forgive  me  ?" 

"Perhaps;  if—  Betty  turned  and  observed 
him  frowningly — "if  it  doesn't  happen  again." 

"Ever?" 


1 82  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Why,"  faltered  Betty,  "why — of  course.  Aren't 
we  silly?  Won't  you  come  in?" 

They  had  reached  the  house  and  Betty  placed 
one  small  foot  in  its  patent  leather  Oxford  on  the 
lowest  step.  Phillip  glanced  from  the  Oxford  to  the 
oriel  window  doubtfully. 

"Wouldn't  your  mother  think  I  was — cheeky?" 
he  asked. 

"She'd  think  you  were  cheekier  if  you  kept  me  on 
the  steps,"  answered  Betty. 

"Well,  then  let's  walk,"  he  suggested  boldly. 

"I  think  I  ought  to  go  in,"  answered  Betty.  And 
so  she  took  the  Oxford  from  the  lowest  step  and 
moved  off  up  the  sidewalk  with  him. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  awfully  cheeky?"  asked 
Phillip. 

"I?     Why?" 

"Your  brother  said  you  did." 

"Oh,  please  don't  pay  any  attention  to  what 
Everett  says  about  me.  He's  liable  to  tell  you 
anything.  What — what  did  he  say  ?" 

"Oh,  I  reckon  he  was  just  fooling.  He  said — 
he  said  you  said " 

"Oh,  dear!"  sighed  Betty.     "More  Emerson!" 

"That  I  was  a  nice  boy,  but  frightfully  cheeky." 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  183 

"The  idea !  I  never  said  anything  of  the  kind. 
What  I  did  say " 

"Please  tell  me,  won't  you  ?" 

"No,  I  shan't.  It  wasn't  anything,  really. 
But  you  mustn't  pay  any  attention  to  Everett. 
He's " 

"A  nice  boy,  but  untruthful?" 

"Yes,"  laughed  Betty.     "We  must  go  back  now." 

"Must  we?  And  won't  you  tell  we  what  you 
said?" 

"Certainly  not,"  she  answered,  severely. 

"Never?"  pleaded  Phillip. 

Betty  relented. 

"Perhaps  some  day." 

"Next  time  I  see  you?" 

"Hardly.  Good-by."  She  held  out  her  hand 
and  Phillip  seized  it  as  though  it  were  the  only 
thing  between  him  and  death  by  drowning. 

"Well,  but — I  may  come  again?" 

"If  you  like." 

"When?" 

"Some  afternoon  when  I'm  at  home?"  asked 
Betty  innocently. 

"Of  course!  Only — only  when  are  you  at 
home?" 


184  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Betty  creased  her  forehead  charmingly  and 
thought  deeply. 

"I'm  pow'ful  unsartin',  I'm  afraid.  But — I'm 
usually  at  home  on  Thursday." 

"Thursday!"  cried  Phillip.  "But  to-morrow's 
Thursday,  and  the  next  one's  a  week  off !  More 
than  a  week!" 

"Why,  so  it  is!"  she  laughed.  "What  shall  we 
do  about  it  ?" 

"Oh,  of  course  you  don't  care,"  he  grumbled. 

"I  do  if  you  do,"  she  said  contritely.  "We'll 
alter  the  calendar." 

"How?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"Why,  we'll  have  a  week  from  to-morrow  come 
on — let  me  see! — on  Monday.  Will  that  do?" 

"  Really  ?     And  will  you  be  at  home  ?  " 

Betty  nodded.     Phillip  held  forth  his  hand  again. 

"But   we've  said  good-by  once,"  she  demurred. 

"Let's  say  it  again." 

He  watched  her  until  the  door  had  closed  and  then 
swung  gaily  toward  Cambridge.  He  would  walk 
back,  he  told  himself,  because  the  car  had  yet  to  be 
made  that  was  large  enough  to  hold  him. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ON  Friday  at  three  o'clock  Phillip  strode  through 
the  crowd  of  bundle-laden  men  and  women  in  front 
of  the  waiting-room  in  the  square  and,  stationing 
himself  on  the  curbstone  under  John's  front  window, 
gazed  upward  and  yelled  lustily  until  John  stuck 
his  head  out  and  said : 

''Shut  up  or  you'll  wake  Davy.     Come  on  up." 

So  Phillip  climbed  the  stairs — something  he  might 
have  done  in  the  first  place  had  it  not  been  contrary 
to  established  custom — and  found  David  snoring  in 
an  armchair  with  a  lap  full  of  books  and  John  sorting 
'out  some  golf  clubs. 

"I'm  going  up  to  the  links  with  Larry  Baker. 
Want  to  come  along?  Fresh  air'll  do  you  good." 

"Can't,"  answered  Phillip;  "I've  got  to  shoot. 
We  begin  at  three.  What  time  is  it?" 

"Three  ten." 

"  Really  ?  I'll  have  to  hurry,  won't  I  ?"  He  sat 
down  and  brought  forth  a  letter  from  one  of  his 
pockets.  "  I  got  this  a  little  while  ago.  It's  from 


1 86  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Margey.  You  know  I  wrote  them  on  Sunday  that 
I  was  going  to  bring  you  home  with  me  for  Christmas 
if  you'd  come,  and  this  is  what  Margey  says.  Let's 
see.  .  .  .  Um !  .  Here  it  is :  '  Mamma  is 

so  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  Mr.  North  and 
wants  you  to  tell  him  for  her  that  he  will  be  very 
welcome  for  as  long  as  he  cares  to  stay.  And  she 
thinks  you  should  explain  that  her  health  will  not 
allow  her  to  write  to  him  in  person.  She  fears  he 
will  consider  her  ungrateful  for  his  kindness.  You 
must  tell  him,  Phil  dear,  that  we  are  plain  folks 
nowadays,  and  that  Elaine  is  not  very  exciting. 
We  wouldn't  want  him  to  be  disappointed,  would 
we?  Mamma  says  we  must  get  up  a  dance  or 
something  for  'him.  Does  he  like  dancing  ?  I  have 
been  wondering —  Er,  that's  all,  I  reckon.  The 
rest  is  just  nonsense." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  /our  sister  can 
write  nonsense,  Phil?"  asked  John. 

"Why,  yes;  why?" 

"No  reason  why  she  shouldn't,  of  course.  Only 
I'd  somehow  got  the  idea  that  she  was  an  extremely 
dignified  and  serious-minded  young  lady." 

"Oh,  Margey 's  serious  -  minded,  I  reckon — at 
times.  But  she's  silly,  too.  All  girls  are,  aren't 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  187 

they  ?  That  is,"  amended  Phillip,  thinking  of  Betty, 
"most  girls  are.  I  know  one  that  isn't." 

"Hello  !"  said  John,  pausing  in  the  act  of  pulling 
on  his  golf  boots.  "I  thought  I  could  discern  an 
unusual  buoyancy  about  you  of  late.  Not  a  college 
widow,  I  hope?" 

"  No,  of  course  not.  But  I  must  be  getting  on. 
You'll  come,  won't  you?" 

"To  Virginia?  Yes,  Phil.  And  when  you  write 
please  thank  your  mother  and —  How  about 
your  sister?  Think  she  wants  me  to  come?" 

"Why,  of  course." 

"Oh;  I  didn't  gather  that  impression  from  what 
you  read  me.  I  believe  she  didn't  mention  herself, 
did  she?" 

"That  doesn't  make  any  difference.  She'll  be 
tickled  to  death." 

"Think  so ?  Well,  I  hope  she  won't  mind  having 
me.  Don't  let  them  put  themselves  out  for  me, 
Phil.  Never  mind  the  dance,  you  know;  I'm  getting 
too  old  for  such  frivolous  things.  As  for  excite- 
ment, why,  we  can  do  without  that  for  a  few  days. 
Elaine  offers  me  one  inducement  that  is  quite 
sufficient." 

"You  mean  the  shooting?"  asked  Phillip. 


1 88  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Eh?  Oh,  yes;  the  shooting,  of  course.  Let  me 
see,  Phil,  we're  to  shoot — what  is  it?  Ducks?" 

"Why,  no;  partridge,  of  course,"  replied  Phillip, 
gazing  at  the  other  in  astonishment. 

"To  be  sure;  partridge.  The  partridge  is  an 
exasperating  bird  that  always  goes  off  like  a  watch- 
man's rattle  when  you're  not  expecting  it  and  leaves 
your  nerves  in  a  state  of  collapse.  Yes,  Phil,  we 
will  sally  forth  with  dogs  and  guns  and  sandwiches 
and  shoot  the  merry  little  partridge  on  its  native 
heath.  Does  the  Virginia  partridge  live  on  a  heath, 
Phil?" 

"Oh,  you're  crazy,"  answered  the  other  in  dis- 
gust. "  I'm  going  now.  But  I'm  awfully  glad  you're 
coming  South,  John;  it's  mighty  good  of  you." 

"Don't  mention  it.  My  regards  to  your  folks 
when  you  write,  and  tell  them  I  accept  their  kind 
invitation  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  So  long. 
You  said  we  were  to  shoot  partridges,  didn't  you?" 

"I  reckon  you're  drunk,"  answered  Phillip.  "I 
must  get  on." 

"So  you've  remarked  several  times.  Don't  let 
me  hurry  you." 

There  was  no  apparent  danger  of  that,  for  Phillip, 
instead  of  rushing  off,  was  strolling  about  the  study 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  189 

looking  at  the  pictures  as  though  they  had  suddenly 
acquired  a  new  interest,  and  giving  especial  attention 
to  the  objects  on  the  mantel.  John  watched  him 
speculatingly  as  he  drew  on  his  coat. 

"Help  yourself  if  you  see  anything  you  fancy," 
he  said. 

"I  will,  then."  Phillip  took  a  photograph  from 
the  mantel.  "I'll  take  this;  much  obliged.  Good- 
by." 

"Hold  on,  there  !     What  have  you  got?" 

"  Just  an  old  photograph  of  you."     He  held  it  up. 

"Oh;  well,  take  it  away.  It's  not  beautiful,  Phil, 
but  I'm  told  it  flatters  me  quite  a  bit.  I  presume  I 
get  one  of  you  in  return  ? " 

"When  I  have  any  you  do,"  laughed  Phillip. 
"I'm  off." 

"Queer  chap,"  mused  John,  when  the  door  was 
closed.  "Wonder  why  he  wanted  the  picture?" 

He  put  a  couple  of  balls  in  his  pocket  and  took 
up  his  bag.  Then,  his  eye  falling  on  the  still  slum- 
bering David,  he  balanced  six  discarded  clubs  about 
him  in  such  a  way  that  they  would  topple  to  the 
floor  at  the  slightest  movement,  and  left  the  room. 

Phillip  wrote  a  letter  that  evening  before  dinner. 
One  passage  was  as  follows:  "  I'm  sending  a  photo- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

graph  of  him.  He  gave  it  to  me  to-day.  He  says 
it  flatters  him,  but  it  doesn't  really.  I  don't  think 
it  does  him  justice.  Anyhow,  it  will  tell  you  more 
than  I  could  even  if  I  answered  all  your  questions. 
I  don't  see  what  difference  it  makes  whether  he's 
light  or  dark,  anyhow.  And  I  don't  believe  it  was 
mamma  that  wanted  to  know.  It  sounds  a '  heap 
more  like  Margey.  Don't  let  any  one  shoot  over 
the  East  Farm;  I  want  some  birds  left  for  North. 
If  Nate  comes  up  again,  tell  him  to  shoot  'round 
the  house;  that's  good  enough  for  him,  anyway." 

November  made  a  graceful  exit  under  blue  skies 
and  to  the  music  of  soft  breezes,  and  December 
tramped  on  in  the  manner  of  a  stage  villain,  filming 
the  shallows  with  ice  and  piling  the  snow  high  in 
the  streets.  That  first  storm  held  for  Phillip  an 
irresistible  attraction.  He  watched  it  through  the 
window  of  his  room  until  it  was  almost  dark;  and 
then,  tossing  aside  the  books  with  which  he  had  been 
pretending  to  study,  he  called  Tudor  Maid  and 
together  they  went  forth  and  faced  the  beating  wind 
and  the  flying,  needlelike  sleet.  Maid  couldn't  see 
the  fun  of  it  at  first,  but  after  Phillip  had  rolled  her 
in  a  snowbank  she,  too,  became  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  adventure  and  went  bounding  clumsily 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  191 

ahead  through  the  drifts  with  all  the  ludicrous 
abandon  of  a  ten-weeks'  puppy. 

They  followed  the  river,  barely  visible  through 
the  whirling  mist,  their  path  dimly  outlined  by  the 
yellow  lights  that  crept  away  into  the  gathering 
darkness  in  a  far-reaching  arc.  They  met  no  other 
wayfarers  after  they  left  the  centre  of  the  town, 
and,  save  for  the  occasional  friendly  gleam  from 
house  window  and  an  infrequent  car  or  snow-plow 
clanging  and  buzzing  its. way  along,  Phillip  could 
have  imagined  himself  back  on  one  of  his  own 
country  roads.  At  Mount  Auburn  they  turned  and 
struggled  homeward,  the  wind  at  their  backs  now, 
and  reached  The  Inn  at  half  past  six.  Maid  climbed 
onto  a  window  seat,  and  with  a  long  sigh  of  weari- 
ness and  contentment  went  to  sleep  and  snored 
peacefully  until  Phillip,  his  own  appetite  at  length 
assuaged,  woke  her  up  to  feast  royally  on  roast 
beef. 

But  after  a  week  of  storm  and  stress  December 
relented  and — like  the  stage  character  it  was  repre- 
senting— prepared  for  the  final  curtain  of  the  year's 
drama  by  wearing  the  softened,  chastened  mien  that, 
on  the  stage  at  least,  precedes  and  heralds  repent- 
ance. The  days  were  cold,  bright  and  invigourating, 


192  THE  LAND  OF  JOY 

and  to  Phillip,  head  over  heels  in  love,  formed  a 
period  of  idyllic  weather.  It  is  probable,  however, 
that  Phillip  would  have  accepted  blizzard,  deluge 
and  cyclone  with  perfect  cheerfulness  so  long  as  the 
roads  that  led  to  Boston  were  passable.  For  he  had 
discovered  that  happiness  for  him  was  only  another 
name  for  Betty  Kingsford ;  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness occupied  a  great  deal  of  his  time  and  led  his  feet 
to  Marlborough  Street  always  once  and  often  twice 
a  week. 

There  was  no  false  delicacy  about  Phillip's  love- 
making.  He  was  in  love  and  didn't  care  who  knew 
it.  The  Southern  male  creature  accepts  sentiment 
as  a  natural  accompaniment  to  youth  and  is  no  more 
ashamed  of  being  in  love  than  he  is  of  being  a  gentle- 
man. If  he  doesn't  wear  his  heart  on  his'  sleeve,  at 
least  he  does  not  hide  it  in  his  boots.  There  was  a 
frankness  and  wholesomeness  about  Phillip's  wooing 
of  Betty  that  appealed  to  Betty's  people  even  while 
it  amused  them.  Mrs.  Kingsford  considered  it  a  boy 
and  girl  affair,  loath  to  own  even  to  herself  that 
Betty  had  reached  an  age  when  her  affections  might 
become  seriously  engaged,  and  negatively  counte- 
nanced it.  Betty's  father  uttered  a  good  many  mild 
jokes  at  Betty's  expense  and  pretended  to  be  fearful 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  193 

of  an  elopement.  But  he  liked  Phillip,  and  acknowl- 
edged to  himself  that  if  assiduity  and  perseverance 
counted  for  anything  that  youth  had.  an  excellent 
chance  of  some  day  becoming  his  son-in-law. 
Everett,  in  the  manner  of  the  elder  brother  the  world 
over,  found  in  Betty's  wooing  food  for  much  open 
amusement,  and  plagued  both  her  and  Phillip  when- 
ever possible,  until  he  found  that  neither  one  minded 
it  in  the  least.  As  for  Betty  herself,  what  she 
thought  about  it  was  difficult  to  tell.  None  knew 
save  herself;  Phillip  least  of  all.  Just  so  long  as 
he  was  content  to  conceal  his  ardour  under  the 
semblance  of  ordinary  friendship,  Betty  was  kind- 
ness itself;  admiration  temperately  expressed  was 
received  demurely  and  as  a  matter  of  course.  But 
the  first  word  of  serious  love-making  summoned 
dire  frowns  and  a  chilliness  of  demeanour  that  cast 
Phillip  into  dismal  abysses  of  doubt  and  despair, 
from  which  he  was  only  rescued  by  the  merciful 
Betty  after  repeated  assertions  of  repentance  and 
vows  of  future  good  behaviour.  And  thus  Decem- 
ber wore  on  and  the  Christmas  recess  approached. 

Aside  from  Phillip's  love  affairs,  the  only  incident 
concerning  the  persons  of  this  story  worthy  of  note 
is  the  election  of  John  in  mid-December  to  the  office 


194  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

of  Class  Day  Secretary,  and  the  selection,  a  week 
prior,  of  Guy  Bassett  for  Vice  -  President  of  the 
Freshman  Class.  The  latter  event  was  duly  cele- 
brated in  Guy's  room  at  a  Saturday  night  orgy 
of  beer  and  cavendish.  There  was  no  poker.  Of 
late — in  fact,  since  Phillip  had  lost  a  month's  allow- 
ance to  Guy  and  had  paid  it  with  exemplary  prompt- 
ness— their  host  had  on  every  occasion  shown  a 
strange  disinclination  for  cards  and  had  politely 
but  firmly  refused  to  produce  them.  To-night  he 
offered  a  new  explanation : 

"As  Vice-President  of  the  Class,  it  behooves  me 
to  set  an  example  of  righteousness  to  you  and  Phil. 
The  vice,-presidency  is  an  office  created  for  a  purpose, 
and  that  purpose  is  the  moral  betterment  of  the 
class.  Although  I  say  it  who  shouldn't,  Chesty, 
the  selection  of  myself  for  the  position  was  a  wise 
step.  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  I  was  cut  out  for 
a  home  missionary." 

"You  be  bio  wed,"  answered  Chester  in  disgust. 
"I  saw  you  playing  cards  at  the  Union  the  other 
night." 

"Not  poker,  I  swear  !" 

"What's  the  difference?  Cards  are  cards, 
and " 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  195 

"Very  well,  old  chap,  cards  are  cards.  Who's  for 
a  nice  game  of  casino?" 

Strange  to  relate,  the  suggestion  was  not  well 
received. 

About  a  week  later  Phillip  found  himself,  to  his 
surprise,  engaged  in  packing  a  small  trunk  with 
apparel  for  the  recess.  The  end  of  the  term  had 
come  so  suddenly  that  it  found  him  rather  bewildered 
and  quite  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  to  welcome  or 
regret  its  advent.  His  delight  in  the  prospect  of 
homecoming  and  of  acting  as  host  to  John  North 
was  offset  by  his  dismay  at  the  idea  of  being  parted 
from  Betty  for  a  fortnight.  His  leavetaking  from 
that  enigmatic  young  person  had  been  far  from 
satisfactory  to  him.  It  had  been  devoid  of  any  of 
the  solemnity  and  tender  sadness  that,  to  him  at 
least,  had  appeared  befitting.  Betty  had  been 
more  than  usually  high-spirited  and  matter-of-fact, 
and  had  refused  to  recognize  the  propriety  of  senti- 
mental farewells.  She  had  also  scoffed  at  the  notion 
of  letter-writing. 

"But  you  know  I— I  love  you,  Betty!"  Phillip 
had  pleaded. 

Betty's  smiling  countenance  froze  instantly. 

"I  know  you're  a  very  silly  boy,"  she  had  answered, 


196  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

severely,  "and  a  very  untruthful  one.  You  prom- 
ised  " 

"I  know  I  did,"  Phillip  had  answered  miserably. 
"But  this  is  different,  Betty ;  don't  you  see  ?" 

"No,  I  don't  see." 

"But  I'm  going  away— — " 

"For  a  week." 

"For  nearly  two  weeks !  For  a  fortnight !" 
Somehow,  fortnight  sounded  more  eternal  than  two 
weeks.  Betty,  however,  failed  to  see  the  distinc- 
tion. 

"You  talk  as  though  it  were  two  years,"  she  had 
replied  scathingly 

"Well,  just  the  same,  it's  a  powerful  long  time  ! 
If  you'd  write  me  just  once,  Betty,  it— 

"Not  a  single  letter !  If  you  can't  remember  me 
for  two  weeks  without  seeing  my  handwriting  I'm 
willing  you  should  forget  all  about  me." 

"Remember  you  !"  Phillip  had  exclaimed  tragic- 
ally. "Of  course  I  shall  remember  you,  Betty! 
It  isn't  that,  only.  Can't  you  understand 

Betty  couldn't.  Neither  could  she  understand 
that  it  was  necessary  that  Phillip  should  kiss  her 
good-by.  He  tried  for  a  long,  long  while  to  explain 
this  to  her  in  such  a  way  that  she  should  discern 


197 

the  imperative  nature  of  it,  but  without  success. 
In  the  end  he  had  had  to  be  content  with  a  smiling 
handshake  and  a  cheerful,  undisturbed  "Good-by, 
Phil,"  supplemented  a  moment  later  by  an  airy 
gesture  from  the  drawing-room  window  that,  at 
least  so  he  found  courage  to  believe,  had  resemblance 
to  a  kiss  thrown  from  small  finger  tips.  He  had 
ridden  back  to  Cambridge  in  a  mood  of  mingled 
hope  and  despair,  of  happiness  and  pain — a  mood 
which,  although  not  recognizable  as  such  at  the 
time,  is  the  sweetest  of  all  a  lover's  many  conditions. 
He  and  John,  with  a  good  deal  of  hand  luggage 
about  them,  and  Tudor  Maid  between  them,  were 
driven  into  the  Terminal  one  evening  and  there 
embarked  on  the  Federal  Express,  Maid  in  a  baggage 
car  and  John  and  Phillip  in  the  Washington  sleeper. 
John  was  in  fine  spirits;  Phillip  seemed  depressed. 
In  journeying  it  makes  a  difference  whether  the 
object  of  attraction  is  before  or  behind. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

IF  you  cross  the  Potomac  at  Washington  and 
journey  westward  for  about  fifty  miles — allowing 
for  the  circuitous  course  taken  by  the  railroad — 
you  will  reach  Melville  Court  House  in  a  trifle  under 
two  hours;  always  supposing,  however,  that  the 
eastbound  train  isn't  late  at  the  junction,  that 
there  are  no  funeral  parties  aboard,  and  that  the 
negroes  whose  duty  it  is  to  coal  the  tender  just 
across  the  river  have  not  gone  off  to  Alexandria  to 
spend  the  day.  The  first  part  of  the  journey  lies 
through  a  country  of  low  red-clay  hills,  clad  with 
oak  and  rhododendron,  a  rather  uninteresting 
country,  where  the  farms  have  a  mortgaged  look 
and  where  unpainted  structures  cluster  about  the 
shedlike  stations  for  no  other  apparent  reason  than 
that  misery  likes  company.  Yet  away  from  the 
railroad  and  its  artificial  conditions  soft  stretches  of 
hillside  and  meadow,  interspersed  with  timbered 
creeks,  hint  of  fairer  and  better  things. 

"It's  a  poorish  farming  country  around  here," 
198 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  199 

said  Phillip.  "You'll  notice  a  difference  after 
awhile." 

They  had  the  smoking  compartment  to  them- 
selves and  were  lolling  indolently  upon  the  leather 
seats,  their  gazes  fixed  upon  the  panorama  that 
swept  undulatingly  past  the  windows. 

"Well,  it  doesn't  look  very  enterprising  here- 
abouts," John  responded.  "I  think  if  they'd  haul 
away  a  few  of  the  rotting  wagons  and  farming 
implements  that  decorate  the  landscape  the  place 
would  have  a  more  prosperous  appearance." 

It  was  new  country  to  him  and  he  had  already 
seen  much  that  interested  and  amused  him.  It 
was  difficult  to  realize  that  Washington,  with  its 
Northern  airs,  was  but  thirty  miles  behind  them. 
With  the  crossing  of  the  ice-filmed  Potomac  they 
had  apparently  passed  from  the  world  of  hurry  and 
bustle  and  impatience  into  one  of  languor,  softness 
and  relaxation.  It  seemed  that  with  every  mile  they 
dropped  behind  them  a  year  went,  too.  The  differ- 
ence had  been  made  apparent  by  little  incidents. 
Soon  after  they  had  entered  the  train  the  con- 
ductor discovered  Phillip's  presence  and  had  shaken 
hands,  calling  him  Phil,  and  later  taking  his  place 
beside  him  and  relating  news  of  things  and  persons 


200  THE   LAND   OP  JOY 

for  quite  half  an  hour.  He  was  introduced  to  John 
as  Major  Fairburn.  After  he  had  left  them  to 
gallantly  help  a  lady  and  a  little  girl  from  the  train, 
John  learned  that  he  had  served  through  the  war 
and  had  won  his  title  of  major  for  heroism  with 
Pickett's  Division  at  Gettysburg. 

"But,  great  Scott,"  exclaimed  John,  "isn't  he 
capable  of  better  stuff  than  conductoring  on  a  little 
old  two-by-twice  railroad  like  this  ?" 

"I  reckon  not,"  replied  Phillip.  "I  think  he 
tried  law  for  awhile  down  in  Fredericksburg,  but 
couldn't  make  it  go.  You  see,  John,  after  the 
war " 

"Oh,  hang  the  war !"  said  the  other  savagely. 
"I  suppose  the  brakeman  is  at  least  a  colonel, 
isn't  he?  And  the  engineer's  a — a  lieutenant- 
general?" 

"N-no,"  answered  Phillip.  "I  don't  know  the 
brakeman;  the  Major  says  he's  just  been  put  on  this 
run.  But  the  engineer's  a  man  named  Warren, 
who  used  to  go  to  the  University.  His  folks  lost 
their  money  and  their  land — 

"During  the  war !" 

"During  the  war;  and  so  he  took  to  running  an 
engine  because  he'd  rather  do  that  than  starve,  I 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  201 

reckon.  You  see,  John,  we  don't  think  less  of  folks 
here  because  they  run  engine  or  brake,  just  so  long 
as  they're  gentlemen." 

"But  that  isn't  it,"  answered  the  other  irritably. 
"The  point's  here:  a  fellow  that  had  it  in  him  to  win 
promotion  in  your  confounded  war  must  have  it  in 
him  to  do  something  better  than  railroad  work. 
Can't  you  see  that  ?" 

"Some  of  them  farm,"  answered  Phillip,  "but,  of 
course,  the  most  of  them  drifted  away  to  other 
places  after  the  war  was  over.  Some  of  our  folks 
went  West  and  stayed  there.  But — I  reckon  fellows 
like  the  Major  and  Warren  didn't  like  leaving  home ; 
I  know  I  shouldn't.  I  reckon  I'd  have  stayed  and 
done  the  best  I  could." 

"Home  be  blowed !  The  chap  that  does  stunts 
in  the  world  is  the  chap  that  hasn't  got  any  home. 
His  home's  where  his  toothbrush  is.  Your  Major 
had  no  business  thinking  about  home.  He  ought  to 
have  gone  off  and  scratched  gravel  somewhere  and 
made  something  of  himself." 

"Maybe,"  Phillip  answered  doubtfully.  "But  I 
reckon  we  care  more  about  home  than  you  folks 
in  the  North  do." 

"I  guess  you  do.     And  if  that's  a  sample  over 


202  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

there  I  can't  say  that  I  blame  you.  By  Jove,  Phil, 
that  is  sweet !" 

A  long  turn  in  the  road  had  brought  into  view 
a  broad  expanse  of  winter  turf  rising  gently  from  a 
country  road  to  a  wooded  promontory  on  which 
rested — there  is  no  better  word — a  gleaming  white 
residence  formed  of  a  central  structure  two  stories 
high,  from  which  on  either  side  lesser  buildings 
stretched  away  and  were  lost  behind  the  trees.  The 
sun  shone  warmly,  brightly  on  the  tall  pillars  and 
dignified  front  as  though  it  loved  them. 

"Yes,  that's  Wancrewe's  View,"  said  Phillip. 
"We're  getting  into  my  country  now,"  he  added 
with  a  trace  of  proud  proprietorship  in  his  voice. 
"Things  look  different  already,  don't  they  ?" 

At  the  next  station  the  platform  was  well  filled 
with  persons  who  had  an  unmistakable  air  of  purpose 
and  an  equally  unmistakable  appearance  of  being 
dressed  up.  But  there  was  a  gravity  in  their  faces 
that  John  wondered  at  until  presently  there  came 
into  view,  from  the  direction  of  the  baggage  car,  a 
fresh  pine  box  that  told  the  story.  The  Major  was 
one  of  the  bearers.  He  had  discarded  his  blue  cap, 
and  his  lean,  tanned  face  wore  an  expression  of 
sympathy  that  John  could  not  think  aught  but 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  203 

genuine.  The  box  was  borne,  slowly,  reverently, 
down  the  narrow  platform  to  the  baggage  shed  and 
there  placed  upon  a  truck.  The  throng  outside 
was  silent;  the  engine  purred  softly  somewhere  out 
of  sight,  and  the  only  sound  was  the  low  directions 
of  a  little  man  in  black  who  helped  settle  the  box 
on  the  truck.  Presently  the  Major  passed  under 
the  window  and  entered  the  rear  of  the  car. 
From  a  cupboard  he  brought  forth  a  pasteboard 
box  and,  as  he  did  so,  his  eye  fell  on  Phillip.  He 
paused  at  the  door. 

"It's  Tom  Culverson,"  he  explained.  "He  died 
up  in  Pennsylvania  Tuesday  last.  That's  his  sister, 
the  little  lady  with  the  light  hair." 

"Oh,"  said  Phillip.  "He  was  a  friend  of  my 
father,  Major.  I  remember  him.  I'm  sorry.  Are 
those  flowers?" 

"Yes,  just  a  few  roses  I  got  in  Washington.  I 
don't  reckon  there'll  be  many  flowers,  Phil." 

He  passed  out  with  his  box,  and  John,  watching 
from  the  window,  saw  him  present  them  to  the  "  little 
lady  with  the  light  hair,"  a  little  lady  with  tired, 
tear- washed  eyes  who  raised  her  handkerchief  to  her 
face  as  she  accepted  them  and  held  the  Major's  hand 
a  long  while.  John's  last  conscious  glimpse  as  the 


204  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

train  moved  slowly  away  was  of  "  the  little  lady  with 
the  light  hair."  She  held  the  Major's  tribute  in 
her  hands  while  her  eyes,  with  something  in  them 
almost  approaching  a  smile,  followed  the  train. 

"  I  guess  we're  a  bit  late,  aren't  we?"  he  asked. 

Phillip  consulted  his  watch. 

"A  little,  I  reckon;  about  ten  minutes.     Why?" 

"Oh,  nothing." 

"Maybe  we'll  make  it  up,"  said  Phillip  apologeti- 
cally. 

"Nonsense,"  answered  John  softly;  "I'm  glad 
of  it." 

The  hills  grew  larger,  softer  in  outline;  the  soil, 
where  it  was  not  hidden  under  bluegrass,  looked 
darker  and  richer;  the  country  had  a  more  finished 
appearance  hereabouts.  Phillip  pointed  out  the 
places  of  interest :  here  a  stream  that  trickled  through 
a  wooded  bottom  where,  just  out  of  sight  from  the 
railroad,  there  was  wonderful  fishing  to  be  had; 
yonder  a  hill  where  wild  turkey  had  been  killed  no 
later  than  a  year  ago;  in  the  distance  a  purple 
promontory  of  timbered  hillside  where  deer  were  still 
extant — according  to  the  stories  told  in  the  evenings 
in  front  of  crackling  logs ;  nearer  at  hand  an  old  brick 
house,  almost  hemmed  in  by  modern  barn  buildings, 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  205 

a  stock  farm  of  wide  repute.  John  looked,  admired, 
questioned;  and  absent-mindedly  filled  a  fresh  pipe. 

"It'll  be  a  short  one,"  warned  Phillip,  "for  we'll 
be  at  Melville  in  about  ten  minutes.  I  hope  Margey 
meets  us." 

"Is  it  likely?"  asked  John.  The  possibility  of 
meeting  Phil's  sister  so  soon  had  not  occurred  to  him. 
For  some  reason  which  he  did  not  try  to  explain  it 
made  him  rather  breathless  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  Margey 's  fond  of  driving,"  answered  his 
companion ;  "  and  if  she  can  get  away  from  the  house 
shell  probably  come  for  us  herself  and  let  Bob  bring 
a  wagon  for  the  baggage. ' '  He  began  stuffing  maga- 
zines and  books  into  his  bags  and  John  followed  his 
example.  There  was  a  long  blast  from  the  engine 
whistle,  and  the  major,  rising  from  his  seat  where  for 
ten  miles  or  so  he  had  been  in  conversation  with  an 
elderly  passenger,  announced  "Melville!  Melville!" 
and  gathered  up  the  packages  of  a  middle-aged  lady, 
preparatory  to  helping  her  off  the  train.  John  was 
struggling  into  his  coat  when  the  train  slowed  down. 
Stooping,  he  looked  out  onto  a  straggling  village 
street,  crossed  by  a  trickling  stream,  a  weather- 
beaten  platform  and  a  station  building  sadly  in  need 
of  a  new  coat  of  whitewash.  The  usual  group  of 


206  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

idlers,  white  and  coloured,  were  on  hand.  John 
picked  up  his  luggage  and  followed  Phillip  from  the 
car,  bidding  good-by  to  the  Major  ceremoniously, 
as  to  a  host. 

"I  guess  your  sister  didn't  come,"  he  said  as  he 
looked  over  the  half-dozen  vehicles  in  sight.  But 
Phillip  didn't  hear  him.  He  was  shaking  hands 
heartily  with  a  young,  very  black  and  smiling  negro. 

"  Bob,  take  Mr.  North's  bag  round  and  then  get 
Maid  from  the  baggage  car.  Did  Miss  Margey 
come?" 

"  Yessir;  she's  waitin'  roun'  back.  Cardinal  don't 
like  the  cyars  much,  Mister  Phil.  You  folks  go 
ahead,  sir;  I'll  fetch  these  yere  bags.  Has  you 
got  trunks?" 

"Yes,  here's  my  check.  Give  him  yours,  John, 
will  you?  You  brought  the  wagon?" 

"Yessir." 

"All  right,  Bob;  hurry  them  along.  Come  on, 
John." 

They  started  around  a  corner  of  the  station,  but 
it  was  slow  work,  since  Phillip  was  required  to  stop 
every  step  or  two  and  shake  hands.  John  was 
impressively  introduced  to  the  station  agent,  the 
foremost  dry  goods  dealer,  two  farmers,  and  several 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  207 

others  whose  names  and  occupations  escaped  him. 
His  size,  topping  Phillip  by  almost  a  head  as  he  did, 
visibly  aroused  the  interest  of  his  new  acquaintances, 
and  a  good  many  eyes  were  fixed  upon  him  as  he 
followed  Phillip  around  the  corner. 

By  the  rear  platform  stood  a  two-seated  buck- 
board  of  light  wood,  in  the  shafts  of  which  a  large  red 
bay  tossed  and  turned  his  head  restively.  On  the 
front  seat,  very  erect,  with  whip  and  lines  held 
firmly  in  gloved  hands,  sat  a  girl  in  brown  covert 
coat  and  soft  felt  hat.  Even  as  John  caught  his  first 
glimpse  of  her  she  turned  and  saw  them.  A  flush 
mounted  into  her  cheeks  as  her  glance  passed  Phillip 
to  the  tall,  broad-shouldered  stranger. 

"Hello,  Phil,  dear!"  she  called,  and  carefully 
changing  whip  and  reins  to  her  left  hand,  she 
stretched  the  other  one  forth  over  the  wheel. 
"Steady,  Cardinal;  be  still !  Don't  you  know  your 
master,  sir?" 

"Howdy,  sis?"  Phillip  took  the  hand  and,  lean- 
ing over,  kissed  her.  "  Margey,  this  is  John  North; 
my  sister,  John.  Easy,  Cardinal,  you  silly  brute  ! 
Where's  Bob  ?  Oh,  Bob,  hold  his  head  until  we  get 
in." 

John  took  the  gloved  fingers  in  his  own  big  palm 


2o8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

and  received  from  them  a  firm,  very  manlike 
pressure.  Two  dark  and  serious  eyes  looked  into 
his  and  a  soft  voice  said : 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  North?  It  was  very  kind 
of  you  to  come  with  Phil.  Mamma  will  be  awfully 
pleased.  She  feared  toward  the  last  that  you  would 
change  your  mind." 

"The  kindness  is  yours,  Miss  Ryerson.  It's  good 
of  you  and  your  mother  to  want  to  be  bothered  with 
a  stranger,  especially  at  Christmas  time.  I  told 
Phil  when  he  invited  me  to  come  that  I  feared  you'd 
think  me  something  of  an  interloper,  but  the  tempta- 
tion was  too  strong;  and  here  I  am.  If  I'm  in  the 
way,  please  pack  me  off  home  again."  Margaret 
Ryerson  smiled  and  made  room  for  him  beside  her 
on  the  front  seat. 

"If  you  stay  until  your  welcome  wears  out,"  she 
answered,  "I  fear  your  studies  will  suffer  mightily. 
Mamma  is  quite  ready  to  adopt  you,  Mr.  North.  Do 
you  want  to  be  adopted?" 

"  Nothing  would  please  me  more.  I  think,  though, 
you'd  better  try  me  a  few  days  beforehand;  I 
wouldn't  like  to  have  you  disappointed  when  it  was 
too  late." 

"That's  all  right,"  cried  Phillip.     "I'll  guarantee 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  209 

him.  Put  the  sticks  in  here,  Bob,  and  the  guns.  All 
ready  now.  Let  him  go.  Remember,  Margey, 
you've  got  two  precious  young  lives  in  your  care; 
so  careful  at  the  corners  1" 

Cardinal  had  become  highly  impatient  at  the  long 
wait,  and  while  they  threaded  their  way  through 
the  quaint,  straggling  little  town  he  demanded  all 
of  Margaret's  attention.  Out  on  the  hard  country 
road,  however,  he  ceased  his  tantrums  and  settled 
down  to  a  long,  even  trot  that  was  good  to  behold. 
Maid,  excited  by  the  homecoming  and  the  release 
from  long  confinement,  dashed  hither  and  thither 
barking  rapturously.  Phillip  leaned  over  the  back 
of  the  front  seat  between  his  sister  and  John  and 
hurled  a  veritable  fusillade  of  questions  at  the  former. 
Very  soon  John  dropped  out  of  the  conversation 
altogether,  save  when  his  attention  was  called  to 
something  by  the  way,  and  he  leaned  back  com- 
fortably, glad  to  have  his  thoughts  to  himself  for 
awhile.  By  turning  his  head  slightly,  as  though  in 
attention  to  what  Phillip  was  saying,  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him  to  study  Margaret  Ryerson  without 
appearing  to  do  so,  and  he  made  the  most  of  the 
opportunity. 

She  was  all  that  the  photograph   on   Phillip's 


2io  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

mantel  had  led  him  to  expect ;  all  and  the  much  more 
that  is  represented  by  the  difference  between  card- 
board and  real  flesh  and  blood.  A  writer  may 
catalogue  carefully  every  feature  of  a  woman's  face, 
every  contour  of  her  body,  every  colour  and  hue  of 
hair  and  eyes  and  skin,  and  when  he  has  finished,  the 
mental  picture  held  by  the  reader  will  no  more 
resemble  the  woman  seen  by  the  writer  than  an  out- 
line drawing  resembles  an  oil  painting;  and  this 
because  no  writer  has  it  in  his  power  to  describe 
what  we  call  the  expression  of  the  face  so  that 
another  can  behold  it.  Expression  is  the  outward 
reflection  of  the  personality  within;  it  is  the  soul 
looking  forth  from  the  body.  Reynolds  says:  "  In 
portraits,  the  grace,  and,  we  may  add,  the  likeness, 
consists  more  in  the  general  air  than  in  the  exact 
similitude  of  every  feature."  Without  expression 
there  can  be  no  portrait;  only  paint  and  canvas. 
Having  set  forth  the  impossibility  of  his  task  and 
having  thoroughly  discouraged  himself  at  the  out- 
set, the  writer  now  follows  in  the  footsteps  of  all 
others  of  his  kind,  assured  of  failure. 

Margaret  Ryerson  was  a  trifle  over  medium 
height  and  seemed  slighter  than  was  really  the  case, 
possibly  because  of  a  gracefulness  that  was  apparent 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  211 

even  in  the  slightest  turn  of  the  head  or  lifting  of 
the  hand ;  a  gracefulness  possessed  in  a  less  marked 
degree  by  Phillip,  and  which,  in  her  case  as  well  as 
his,  was  largely  due  to  a  lifelong  acquaintance  with 
the  saddle.  Her  resemblance  to  her  brother  did 
not  end  there:  her  features  were  his  softened, 
feminized,  and  the  contour  of  the  face,  although 
more  rounded  and  delicate,  recalled  his.  Her  hair 
was  deeply  brown,  but  held  warmer  colour  than 
Phillip's,  while  her  eyes  were  at  least  a  shade 
darker.  They  were  serious  eyes,  and  to-day,  at 
least,  shadowed  as  they  were  by  the  falling  brim  of 
her  felt  hat,  impressed  John  as  being  somewhat 
inscrutable;  nor  could  he  later  ever  quite  convince 
himself  that  this  first  impression  was  wrong. 

For  a  Southerner  Margaret's  complexion  was 
light,  and  her  cheeks  held  more  colour  than  is  looked 
for  in  women  born  below  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 
Beside  her's,  Phillip's  face  looked  sallow.  Her 
mouth  was  small  and  her  lips  were  less  full  than  her 
brother's.  No  face  was  ever  yet  formed  quite 
perfect,  and  Margaret's  held  one  fault  at  least:  the 
chin  was  a  trifle  too  prominent  for  absolute  sym- 
metry. And  yet  that  very  imperfection  helped  to 
form  a  whole  that  many  persons  thought  beautiful. 


212  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

John,  at  least,  saw  nothing  that  he  would  have  had 
altered.  He  thought  her  lovely,  and  experienced  an 
odd  and  delightful  sort  of  pride  in  her,  as  though 
she  were  a  discovery  or  creation  of  his  own. 

He  had  hoped  for  a  good  deal,  as  he  could  see  now 
when  he  found  opportunity  to  compare  his  precon- 
ceived ideas  with  the  reality,  and  was  not  disap- 
pointed ;  on  the  contrary,  the  real  Margaret  Ryerson 
far  excelled  the  ideal.  The  impression  he  received 
of  her  that  afternoon  while  spinning  over  the  undu- 
lating country  road  between  far-stretching  fields 
and  wooded  hilltops,  and  one  which  he  retained 
ever  afterward,  was  a  very  wholesome  one.  Her 
general  expression  was  serious,  though  far  from 
somber,  and  her  smiles,  frequent  as  they  were,  were 
little  ones  in  which  the  deep  brown  eyes  seemed 
more  concerned  than  the  lips.  John  found  that  she 
did  not  laugh  often ;  and  when  she  did  it  was  like  a 
brook  that  ripples  all  the  merrier  for  being  confined 
for  a  space.  Yet,  while  her  face  expressed  gravity, 
it  told  no  tale  of  unhappiness  or  dissatisfaction; 
rather  quiet  contentment,  a  thankful  joy  of 
existence  that  found  expression  in  graciousness  and 
kindness  rather  than  in  exuberance  of  talk  and 
laughter.  Here.  John  told  himself,  was  a  woman 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  213 

whose  love  could  not  be  easily  gained,  and  was 
therefore  better  worth  the  winning.  And  he  meant 
to  win  it.  He  had  meant  to  ever  since  he  had 
received  her  letter,  and  now  his  resolution  was 
strengthened  and  intensified.  He  spoke  for  the 
first  time  in  many  minutes: 

"It's  beautiful  here,"  he  said.  Margaret  turned 
to  him  and  smiled.  Her  eyes  were  questioning. 

"You  like  it?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  simply.  He  turned  to  Phillip. 
"  You  didn't  tell  me  it  was  like  this,  Phil;  you  never 
did  it  half  justice. " 

Phillip's  gaze  moved  over  the  scene.  The  sun- 
light was  full  and  strong  and  bathed  everything  in 
an  amber  glow.  There  was  autumn  in  the  air  and 
spring  in  the  earth;  nowhere,  despite  that  here  and 
there  a  pond  was  covered  thinly  with  ice,  was  winter 
more  than  a  suggestion.  The  sky  was  intensely 
blue ;  the  distant  hills  were  mauve ;  the  nearer  ones 
deeply  brown  with  timber  or  freshly  saffron  with 
turf  in  which  summer  seemed  only  hiding  for  the 
moment.  Phillip  smiled  softly,  happily. 

"I  couldn't,"  he  answered  almost  below  his 
breath. 

They  had  left  the  village  some  three  miles  to  the 


214  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

east  and  were  now  topping  a  hill,  Cardinal  taking  it 
with  long,  effortless  strides  and  Tudor  Maid  trotting 
along  at  the  edge  of  the  road  with  happy  eye  and 
lolling  tongue.  As  they  began  the  short  descent 
a  new  vista  opened  out  before  them.  Half  a  dozen 
clusters  of  buildings  were  in  sight,  dotted  over 
several  miles  of  tilled  field  and  meadow.  Pillars  of 
wood  smoke  rose  purple  and  slender  and  straight 
into  the  golden  atmosphere.  To  the  right  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill  the  road  turned  toward  a  ribbon  of  brush 
and  timber  that  hid  the  slow  meandering  of  a  creek 
whose  course  the  eye  could  trace  for  fully  two  miles ; 
to  the  left  it  ran  straight  and  ascensive  toward  a 
thickly  wooded  ridge  which  stretched,  like  a  minia- 
ture mountain  range,  north  and  south — a  "hog- 
back," decisively  dividing  the  present  tableland 
from  the  valley  beyond.  Where  the  road  parted  a 
branch  of  the  creek  had  formed  a  little  pond,  about 
the  margins  of  which  a  group  of  laughing,  shouting 
children  were  vainly  striving  to  find  an  ice-crust 
that  would  bear  their  weight.  As  the  carriage 
passed  they  paused  to  watch  and  utter  shrill  greet- 
ings. One  diminutive  youngster  held  up  in  triumph 
a  pair  of  shining  skates  for  their  awed  inspection. 
Margaret  returned  their  greetings.  The  occupant 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  215 

of  the  back  seat  was  recognized,  and  they  passed  on 
to  a  chorus  of  "  Howdy,  Mister  Phil !" 

John  now  saw  that  where  the  present  road  parted 
a  second  one  began  and  led  away  in  broad  curves 
behind  rows  of  leafless  trees  toward  the  ridge,  and 
that  somewhere  in  that  direction  spirals  of  smoke 
were  ascending  and  specks  of  white  were  now  and 
then  discernible  through  the  timber.  Directly 
ahead  of  them  huge  iron  gates  between  stone  pillars 
were  almost  hidden  by  a  cluster  of  massive  oaks. 
Cardinal  stopped  with  his  muzzle  against  the 
rusted  grilling  and  Phillip  leaped  to  the  ground  and, 
officiously  aided  by  Maid,  threw  open  the  creaking 
gates.  Cardinal  sidled  through,  the  iron  portals 
clanged  back  into  place,  Phillip  sprang  up,  and  they 
sped  onward  around  a  long  curve  of  well-kept 
roadway  between  the  gray  and  brown  trunks  of 
oaks  and  chestnuts.  Margaret  turned  to  John  and 
smiled : 

"Welcome  to  Elaine,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

PRESENTLY  they  passed  through  a  second  gate 
and  left  the  outpost  of  trees  behind.  To  the  right 
stretched  a  broad  expanse  of  turf,  bare  of  trees  or 
shrubs;  Phillip  called  it  the  lawn.  It  led  upward 
to  a  sloping  terrace  upon  which,  fair  and  white 
against  a  dense  background  of  winter  woods,  guarded 
by  a  few  sentinel  trees  which  threw  their  leafless 
shadows  upon  the  sunlit  walls,  stood  the  house, 
crowning  the  splendour  of  the  landscape  with  its 
own  gleaming  beauty  and  quiet  dignity.  John 
drew  a  breath  of  intense  pleasure  as  he  looked, 
while  Cardinal,  moved  to  new  impatience  by  the 
sight  of  the  stables,  rushed  around  the  curve  that, 
bordering  the  lawn,  led  to  the  house. 

Elaine  had  been  built  by  Phillip's  great-grand- 
father in  the  early  part  of  the  century,  when  three 
or  four  years  was  thought  none  to  long  for  the  rear- 
ing of  a  home.  The  great  terrace  had  been  pulled 
down  from  the  ridge  at  the  back  and  thrown  up 
from  the  sloping  meadow  below  by  scores  of  toiling 

216 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  217 

slaves;  the  stone  that  formed  the  thick  walls  had 
been  carted  from  quarries  forty  miles  away  as  the 
crow  flies;  the  timber  had  been  felled  upon  the 
estate,  sawn  and  cut  and  planed  with  infinite  toil; 
the  huge  stone  columns  before  the  door  had  been 
erected  by  workmen  brought  from  Italy  for  the 
purpose.  That  long-gone  Phillip  Ryerson  had 
builded  well,  and  to-day  the  house  was  as  strong 
and  undisturbed  as  when  he  had  first  led  his  young 
bride  into  it.  Save  that  here  and  there  the  plaster 
covering  the  stones  had  cracked  or  chipped,  the 
building  showed  no  signs  of  any  depredations  of 
time  or  weather;  nor  had  the  civil  strife  which  had 
waged  hotly  about  it  marred  its  beauty;  though 
once,  indeed,  the  great  hall  had  been  piled  high 
with  bundles  of  fodder  and  only  a  miracle  had 
averted  the  applying  of  the  torch  by  Northern 
soldiers. 

The  house  was  long — "Four  feet  longer  than  the 
White  House  at  Washington,"  Phillip  assured — • 
and  two  stories  and  a  half  in  height.  In  the  centre 
of  the  front  an  immense  portico  stood  forth,  its  roofs 
supported  by  four  great  Greek  Doric  columns  whose 
bases  two  men  could  scarce  encircle  with  their  arms. 
The  masonry  of  the  columns  was  hidden  by  plaster, 


2i8  THE   LAND  OF   JOY 

white  and  gleaming  like  the  pediment  above;  and 
the  same  snowy  hue  was  everywhere  visible  save 
upon  the  doors  and  windows  and  upon  the  orna- 
mental lintels  above  them.  These  were  of  two 
shades  of  chocolate  brown,  and,  with  the  hanging 
balcony  above  the  front  entrance,  lent  a  pleasant 
suggestion  of  the  Italian  to  the  architecture.  The 
white  chimneys  rising  above  the  gables  were  topped 
with  mellow  ochre-tinted  pots.  Just  now  the 
shadows  were  gathering  beneath  the  portico 
roof,  but  upon  the  rest  of  the  house  front 
the  westerning  sun  shone  warmly,  delicately 
shadowing  the  walls  with  the  tracery  of  spreading 
branches  and  throwing  upon  the  great  base 
of  a  column  a  grotesque  silhouette  of  one  of  the 
two  big  lions  which,  standing  at  either  side 
upon  their  stone  acroteria,  guarded  the  broad 
entrance. 

As  the  carriage  reached  the  corner  of  the  house 
three  dogs,  a  red-and-white  setter,  a  dark  brindle 
bull  terrier  and  a  toddling  beagle,  raced  toward 
them,  baying  and  yelping  their  welcome,  while  a 
flock  of  handsome  bronze  turkeys  and  two  dis- 
dainful peacocks  hurried  across  the  drive  toward 
the  shelter  of  the  trees.  On  the  porch  stood  a  white- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  219 

haired  darky,  and  below,  on  the  gravel,  a  younger 
one  ready  to  take  the  horse. 

"Hello,  Uncle  !"  called  Phillip.  The  elder  darky 
grinned  delightedly  and  bobbed  his  grizzled  head. 

"Howdy,  Will!"  The  younger  smiled  from  ear 
to  ear  and  performed  a  subdued  double-shuffle  in 
the  roadway.  Phillip  leaped  to  the  porch,  shook 
hands  with  the  butler  and  turned  to  John. 

"All  out  for  Elaine  !"  he  cried  merrily.  "Here's 
where  we  stop,  John.  Look  after  those  guns  and 
umbrellas,  Uncle.  Out  you  come,  sis!" 

In  the  hall,  broad,  deep  and  high  of  ceiling,  a 
room  in  itself,  Margaret,  drawing  her  gloves  from 
palms  that  ached  with  holding  the  headstrong 
Cardinal,  nodded  smilingly  toward  a  deep  chair. 
John  shook  his  head,  however,  and  turning  to  one 
of  the  windows  gazed  out  over  the  sloping,  sun- 
bathed lawn  to  the  timbered  creek,  to  the  fields 
beyond,  to  the  purple  rises  and  hills  beyond  those, 
and  so  to  an  almost  cloudless  horizon  which  already 
hinted  of  sunset.  He  received  an  impression  of 
openness  and  space  that  was  almost  thrilling. 
Phillip,  followed  by  the  butler,  came  in  with  the 
luggage,  and  to  the  darky  Margaret  spoke: 

"Has  mother  come  down?" 


220  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  No'm,  not  yet.  She  said  she'd  wait  till  you-all 
come." 

"Very  well.  You'd  better  take  Mr.  North's 
things  to  his  room,  Uncle;  and  perhaps  you'd  like 
to  go  up?"  turning  to  John. 

"Thank  you,  I  will." 

"I'm  going  up  to  see  mamma;  I'll  be  back  in  a 
minute  or  so,  John.  I've  told  them  at  the  stable  to 
bring  the  horses  around ;  we'll  take  a  ride  before 
supper."  Phillip  tossed  aside  his  cap  and  turned 
toward  a  door. 

"But  maybe  Mr.  North  is  tired,  Phil,  and  would 
rather  not  ride  this  evening,"  said  Margaret. 

"Tired I  Shucks,  Margey;  why,  you  just  can't 
tire  him!  You  want  to  ride,  don't  you,  John?" 

"  I  should  like  to  very  much.  It  seems  a  mistake 
to  stay  indoors  in  this  kind  .of  weather — it's  grand. 
I'll  get  washed  up  a  bit  and  change  my  things. 
Don't  let  your  mother  put  herself  to  any  incon- 
venience on  my  account,  Phil,  unless  she  would  have 
come  downstairs  anyway — if  I  wasn't  here,  I 
mean — 

"This  is  her  usual  time,"  answered  Margaret. 
"I  suspect  the  reason  she's  not  already  here  to 
welcome  you  is  that  she's  doing  an  unusual  amount 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  221 

of  primping  on  your  account,  Mr.  North.  Mamma 
is  not  beyond  feminine  coquetries,  is  she,  Phil?" 

"  She's  the  biggest  flirt  in  four  counties  !"  laughed 
Phillip.  "I  don't  doubt  but  that  she's  been  dress- 
ing for  your  conquest,  John,  ever  since  morning." 

"The  extra  exertion  is  quite  unnecessary,"  John 
replied  gravely.  "I  came  here  quite  prepared  to 
fall  victim  to  her  charms. " 

Uncle  Casper,  with  John  in  tow,  led  the  way 
through  an  old-style  drawing-room  at  the  right  to  a 
narrow  entry  from  which  stairs  led  upward  to  a 
similar  hall  on  the  second  floor.  John's  room  was 
to  the  left,  an  immense  apartment  occupying  the 
corner  of  the  house  toward  the  stables.  On  the 
front  two  large  windows  afforded  the  same  broad 
view  of  the  lawn  and  the  country  villageward  that 
he  had  admired  from  the  hall.  On  the  side  two 
other  windows  overlooked  a  space  of  turf  that 
narrowed  itself  between  two  driveways  until  its 
apex  lay  just  outside  the  gate  of  the  stable-yard. 
To  the  right  of  it  was  the  terrace  and  the  lawn,  to 
the  left  the  thickly  wooded  ridge,  rising  abruptly 
from  the  back  of  the  house  and  inviting  to  explora- 
tions with  gun  and  dog.  The  stables  were  painted 
white,  with  brown  roofs,  and  from  the  centre  of 


222  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

what  was  evidently  the  original  structure  arose 
against  the  clear  sky  an  airy  clock  tower  sur- 
mounted by  a  great  iron  vane.  Beyond  the  stables 
the  ground  dipped  to  a  hollow  through  which 
a  small  stream  slipped  down  from  the  hill  beyond ; 
and  across  the  hollow,  disputing  the  edge  of  the  rise 
with  the  primeval  forest,  lay  a  group  of  barns,  folds, 
pens  and  sheds.  On  that  side  a  door  opened  upon 
a  balcony  from  which  a  flight  of  steps  gave  access 
to  the  ground.  "Must  have  been  designed  for  a 
bachelor  apartment,"  John  thought.  The  room 
was  well,  if  plainly  furnished,  and  an  antique 
testerbed,  draped  about  with  faded  pink  curtains, 
promised  good  repose.  Near  the  bed  a  big  fire- 
place was  ablaze  with  pine  logs  that  hurled  their 
sparks  against  the  brass  fender  with  reports  like 
miniature  pistols.  The  warmth  felt  agreeable, 
since  the  four  windows  were  wide  open;  and  after 
Uncle  Casper  had  taken  his  slow  departure,  John 
lighted  a  cigarette  and,  turning  his  broad  back  to 
the  glow,  clasped  his  hands  behind  him  and  gazed 
contentedly  across  the  width  of  the  room  and  out 
into  the  afternoon  world.  He  had  been  several 
times  abroad,  although  his  travels  there  had  followed 
well-worn  roads,  and  he  had  looked  about  not  a 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  223 

little  in  his  own  country,  and  now  he  was  telling 
himself  that  never  had  he  found  a  place  as  beautiful 
as  Elaine  nor  one  better  worth  calling  home. 

Presently  he  threw  aside  his  cigarette  and  strug- 
gled into  a  pair  of  riding  breeches — discovering  to 
his  dismay  that  he  had  put  on  flesh  since  the  summer 
— and  worked  his  feet  into  a  pair  of  boots.  When 
he  was  dressed  he  glanced  at  his  watch  and  found 
the  time  to  be  a  quarter  to  four.  From  the  stable 
the  negro,  Will,  was  bringing  the  horses,  a  big  black 
stallion  and  a  smaller  but  rangy -looking  bay  mare 
which  John  guessed  to  be  a  sister  to  Cardinal.  He 
watched  them  pass  toward  the  portico  and  made 
his  way  downstairs.  Phillip  was  in  the  hall  look- 
ing very  handsome  in  whipcords,  boots  and  brown 
tweed  coat. 

"  Mamma  asks  me  to  apologize  to  you,  old  man,  for 
not  coming  down.  I  think  the  excitement  of  seeing 
me  again  has  rather  upset  her.  I  was  to  convey 
her  compliments  and  say  that  she  bids. you  welcome 
to  Elaine  and  hopes  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you  at  supper.  There  !  Those  are  her  own  words, 
and  I  think  I  said  them  nicely.  Are  you  all 
ready?  We  won't  have  much  time,  but  we  can 
jog  around  a  bit." 


224  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  I  hope  Mrs.  Ryerson  is  not  ill  ? "  asked  John  with 
concern. 

"No;  only  a  little  headachey,  I  reckon.  Margey 
made  her  lie  down  until  supper. "  A  look  of  anxiety 
shaded  his  face  for  a  moment.  "  I  suppose  it's  my 
being  away  so  long,  but  she  looks  heaps  thinner 
and  poorer  than  I  thought.  Poor  little  mamma  ! 
She's  been  getting  more  and  more  like  a  dear  little 
ghost  ever  since  father  died.  I'm  beginning  to  think 
that  maybe  I'd  ought  to  stay  at  home  with  her, 
John,  instead  of  going  away  off  there  to  college. 
But  she  won't  hear  of  it ;  it  was  father's  wish,  she 
says.  I  reckon  if  he  had  wanted  me  to  go  to  South 
Africa  and  dig  gold  she'd  have  insisted  on  my  going. 
Well,  come  on.  How's  Ruby,  Will?  All  right? 
She  looks  fine.  That's  my  mare,  John.  Isn't  she  a 
sweet  one?  You  can  have  either  of  them.  The 
stallion's  rather  mean  going  through  the  gates,  but 
except  for  that  he's  a  pretty  steady  horse.  And 
the  mare's  as  nice  as  you'll  want. " 

"I  guess  I'll  take  the  mare,  if  you  don't  mind," 
answered  John.  "I  haven't  ridden  since  summer, 
and  not  a  great  deal  then,  and  I  guess  she'll  break 
me  in  easier." 

"All  right,  then  I'll  ride  Winchester.     Will,  look 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  225 

at  Mr.  North's  stirrups ;  you'll  have  to  let  them  out 
a  good  deal,  I  reckon.  When  Bob  gets  here  tell 
him  the  trunk  with  the  red  stripes  goes  to  Mr. 
North's  room.  All  right,  John?  We'll  ride  over 
to  the  East  Farm  and  call  on  Markham.  He's  the 
overseer,  you  know,  and  a  mighty  nice  fellow. " 

But  they  didn't  have  to  go  to  the  East  Farm  to 
see  Markham,  for  they  met  him  half  a  mile  from 
the  house ;  a  tall,  angular  man  of  about  forty  years, 
with  a  long  and  drooping  yellow  mustache  and  a 
soft  and  deliberate  Southern  drawl  that  John  liked 
to  listen  to.  He  rode  a  horse  that  was  as  near  a 
counterpart  of  himself  as  a  horse  could  be — a  yellow- 
ish sorrel  with  many  angles  and  a  deliberate  gait. 
The  meeting  between  Phillip  and  Markham  was 
more  in  the  nature  of  that  between  brothers  than 
between  employer  and  employed.  Phillip  intro- 
duced the  others  and  they  shook  hands  cordiaLy 
above  their  stirrups. 

"This  is  Tom  Markham,  John,"  said  Phillip;  "a 
good  fellow,  and  the  finest  overseer  in  the  State  of 
Virginia." 

"Pleased  to  meet  you,  sir,"  Markham  greeted. 
"Allow  me  to  add  my  welcome  to  the  others.  It's 
always  a  pleasure  to  me  to  meet  a  No'therner;  I 


226  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

fought  against  'em,  sir,  and  the  more  I  fought  'em 
the  more  I  liked  'em,  sir.  Yes,  Mr.  No'th,  by 
doggie,  sir  !"  He  drew  forth  a  plug  of  tobacco  and 
offered  it  with  a  courteous  inclination  of  the  cone- 
crowned  sombrero  that  covered  his  weather-stained 
face.  John  declined  with  equal  politeness,  and 
Markham  set  two  rows  of  strong  white  teeth  into 
the  plug.  "A  pow'ful  mean  habit,  sir.  I  respect 
yo'  decision,  sir;  by  doggie,  sir  !"  He  spat  politely 
and  drew  a  lean  brown  hand  over  his  mustache. 
"  Where  yo'  goin',  Phil?" 

"We  started  out  to  call  on  you.  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"  I  was  on  my  way  to  see  you  and  pay  my  respects 
to  yo'  friend." 

"  Well,  can't  you  come  back  to  supper  with  us  ? " 

"Thank  you,  not  to-night.  I  shall  be  pleased  to 
come  over  to-morrow  night." 

"That's  fine,"  answered  Phillip.  "I  want  to 
have  a  good  talk  with  you. " 

"If  yo'-all  have  no  special  place  in  mind," 
said  Markham,  "why  not  ride  over  to  Cupples's 
with  me  ?  I  want  to  see  about  some  hay  they've 
got  for  sale.  We're  not  goin'  to  have  enough  to 
last,  I  reckon,  and  I  want  to  buy  before  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  227 

price  goes  up.     They're  askin'  nine  and  a  half  in 
Melville  now." 

"All  right,"  Phillip  replied;  "one  place  is  as  good 
as  another  to  us.  I  reckon  we  can  get  back  by 
supper  time  if  we  cut  through  the  woods. " 

John  let  the  others  ride  ahead,  since  the  narrow 
road  would  not  allow  of  three  abreast,  and  trotted 
along  behind  on  Ruby,  filling  his  lungs  with  the 
moist,  frosty  air  of  evening  and  watching  the 
darkening  panorama  of  hill  and  field  and  woodland. 
The  leather  felt  good  between  his  thighs,  the  road 
was  firm  and  springy,  and  Ruby  was  a  horse  in  a 
hundred,  having  a  long,  easy  trot  that  carried  her 
along  with  seemingly  no  effort.  They  went  through 
innumerable  gates  which  Markham  either  opened 
from  the  saddle  or  dismounted  and  let  down,  and 
Winchester  fidgeted  and  reared  at  each  succeeding 
one  as  though  he  had  never  seen  its  like.  When  they 
reached  the  little  hill  farm  that  was  their  destina- 
tion the  lights  were  aglow  in  the  house  and  the 
haystack  was  scarcely  more  than  a  blur  of  black  in 
the  purple-gray  twilight.  But  Markham  pulled 
out  tufts  here  and  there  and  nibbled  it  knowingly, 
and  Phillip  followed  suit,  while  John  kept  his  seat 
and  held  the  restive  Winchester.  Maid  and  the 


228  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

beagle,  whose  name  was  Tubby,  had  accompanied 
them,  and  were  now  growlingly  renewing  acquaint- 
ances with  the  resident  dogs.  Markham  threw  the 
reins  back  over  his  horse's  head  and  climbed  into 
the  saddle. 

"Good  hay,  Phil,  that,"  he  said.  "A  bit  dusty, 
maybe,  but  all  right  if  the  price  suits.  How  much 
do  you  reckon  there  is  there  ? ' ' 

"It's  hard  to  see,"  answered  Phillip,  "but  I 
should  say  about  eight  tons. " 

" Gingeration  !  I'll  buy  it  for  eight,"  chuckled 
Markham,  "yes,  sir!  I  reckon  there's  nearer  ten. 
It's  mighty  well  settled.  I'll  ride  down  to  the  house 
and  see  'em ;  it  won't  take  but  a  minute. " 

Presently  he  returned,  loping  up  the  little  rise 
toward  them. 

"That's  fixed,  Phil.  Got  it  for  nine  tons.  They 
wanted  eight  and  a  half  for  it,  but  I  got  it  for  eight 
and  a  quarter.  Good  hay,  too,  by  doggie,  sir,  yes  !" 

"Tom,  can't  you  get  us  up  a  fox  hunt  some  day 
soon?"  asked  Phillip  on  the  way  back.  "This  is 
good  weather,  you  know." 

"Certainly  I  can.  Old  Colonel  Brownell  and  a 
lot  of  the  boys  rode  over  here  last  Saturday  and 
borrowed  the  dogs  and  found  just  back  of  Clear- 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  229 

spring.  They  had  a  good  run  and  caught  a  young 
vixen  right  down  over  yonder  " —pointing  into  the 
darkness  toward  the  west — "and  the  Colonel 
carried  off  the  head.  The  Colonel's  sixty-eight," 
he  continued,  turning  toward  John,  "  and  he's  never 
missed  a  hunt  yet.  Well,  now,  how  would  next 
Monday  morning  do?" 

"All  right,  I  reckon,"  answered  Phillip.  "And 
we'll  pray  for  as  good  weather  as  this. " 

"You're  right;  this  is  certainly  mighty  fine 
weather.  Well,  I'll  leave  yo'-all  here  and  jog  home, 
I  reckon.  Good-night,  Phil.  Good-night,  Mr.  No'th; 
mighty  pleased  to  have  made  yo'  acquaintance,  sir, 
an'  hope  to  see  yo'  over  at  my  place  before  yo' 
leave,  sir." 

Half-way  home,  while  riding  through  a  clearing 
that  was  bordered  on  one  side  by  a  dark  wood,  there 
was  a  sudden  noise  in  the  underbrush,  followed  by 
the  sweet,  clear,  bell-like  note  of  the  beagle  and 
the  sharp,  excited  yelping  of  Tudor  Maid.  John's 
mount  threw  up  her  head,  laid  her  ears  back  and 
tugged  at  the  bit. 

" Tubby 's  found  a  fox,"  cried  Phillip.  "Whoa, 
boy!"  He  stood  up  in  his  stirrups  and  placed  a 
hand  at  his  mouth. 


230  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  Ha-arkaway  ! "  he  called  shrilly.  "  Harkaway  ! 
After  him,  Tubby,  old  boy !" 

The  rustling  of  the  underbrush  died  away  and 
Tubby's  voice  from  a  distance  took  on  a  worried, 
whining  -tone. 

"He's  lost  him,"  laughed  Phillip.  "Come  on, 
Winchester."  They  rode  on  in  a  silence  disturbed 
only  by  the  tread  of  the  horses  on  the  soft  wagon 
path,  the  musical  creaking  of  leather  and  the  occa- 
sional rustling  or  chirp  of  birds  preparing  for  the 
night.  When  they  reached  the  top  of  the  hill 
Elaine  lay  before  and  below  them,  a  misty  white 
blur  picked  out  with  tiny  lights,  while  in  the  east, 
over  a  dark  rampart  of  forests,  the  moon  was  sailing, 
its  lower  edge  caught  in  the  topmost  branches  of  a 
distant  tree. 

"By  Jove, "  said  John  softly,  "but  that's  beau- 
tiful!" 

"Yes,"  answered  Phillip,  as  their  horses,  scent- 
ing the  stables,  tugged  at  the  reins  and  began  the 
descent ;  and  after  a  moment  he  added  thoughtfully, 
"  I  wonder  if  Margey  told  Aunt  Cicely  to  have  cakes 
for  supper." 

It  is  probable  that  she  did,  for  when,  an  hour 
later,  they  sat  at  table,  Uncle  Casper  began  a  series 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  231 

of  excursions  to  the  kitchen  which  John  thought 
would  never  end,  returning  each  time  laden  with 
steaming,  golden-brown  griddle-cakes  and  offering 
them,  to  the  guest  with  a  murmured  and 
persuasive  "Hot  cakes,  sir?"  that  John  found 
difficult  to  resist.  Between  Uncle  Casper  and 
Phillip — continually  challenging  John,  to  renewed 
excesses — and  Mrs.  Ryerson,  who  apparently 
believed  that  he  was  about  to  die  of  starvation 
under  her  eyes,  he  was  in  danger  of  doing  mortal 
injury  to  his  digestion.  The  only  thing  that  saved 
him  was  the  fact  that  as  soon  as  he  had  prepared 
his  cakes  and  had  taken  his  first  mouthful  or  two, 
Uncle  Casper  would  appear  at  his  elbow  with  a  fresh 
plate. 

"Mr.  North,  do  take  some  more  and  butter  them 
while  they're  hot,"  Mrs.  Ryerson  would  beg;  and 
in  that  moment  of  hesitation  which  is  fatal  Uncle 
Casper  would  whisk  away  his  plate  and  present  a 
new  one,  and  John  would  begin  all  over  again. 
But  his  ride— to  Crupples's  and  back  was  reckoned 
six  miles — had  given  him  a  keen  appetite,  and  he 
thoroughly  enjoyed  his  supper  and  would  have  been 
enabled  to  rival  Phillip  in  the  consumption  of  cakes 
had  that  dish  not  been  preceded  by  a  bountiful 


232  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

repast  of  country  sausage,  baked  potatoes,  salad 
and  divers  kinds  of  hot  bread. 

The  dining-room  was  large  and  high-ceilinged, 
but  furnished  in  such  a  way  that  the  effect  was  one 
of  coziness  rather  than  spaciousness.  The  table  was 
small  and  oval  and  was  lighted  only  by  the  two 
old-fashioned  candelabra.  Phillip  sat  at  the  head 
and  his  mother  at  the  foot,  Margaret  and  John 
facing  each  other  on  the  sides  —  an  arrangement 
that  the  latter  heartily  approved  of. 

Mrs.  Ryerson  was  a  sweet-faced,  delicate-looking 
little  woman  of  about  forty,  who  took  her  troubles 

seriously  but  without  undue  complaining.    Her  hair 

* 

was  heavily  streaked  with  white  and  suffering  had 
left  its  imprint  about  the  rather  deep  eyes  and 
delicate  mouth.  But  for  all  that  John  could  readily 
understand  how,  not  so  many  years  ago,  she  was 
called  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  county.  Both 
Phillip  and  Margaret  had  something  of  her  looks, 
but  were  cast  in  larger  mould.  She  had  a  rather 
ceremonious  manner  of  speech  that  suggested  hoop- 
skirts  and  patches,  and  caused  John  to  raise  his  eyes 
involuntarily  to  the  old  portraits  on  the  walls.  But 
her  welcome  had  been  unmistakably  sincere  and 
hearty,  despite  its  formality,  and  had  made  John 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  233 

wonder  whether  he  was  not  something  of  an  impostor, 
since  he  was  looked  upon  at  Elaine  as  one  whose 
example  and  guidance  had  saved  Phillip  from  awful 
and  unknown  pitfalls.  John  believed  that  as  a 
guardian  he  had  been  somewhat  of  a  failure,  and 
he  had  striven  to  convey  the  fact  to  Mrs.  Ryerson. 
But  he  might  as  well  have  saved  his  breath,-  for  that 
admiring  lady  had  already  set  him  up  in  her  mind  as 
a  hero  and  received  his  attempts  to  disclaim  credit 
with  polite  incredulity. 

After  supper  Phillip  lead  John  to  the  library  for 
a  smoke.  It  was  a  small  room,  shabby  in  appearance, 
lined  from  floor  to  ceiling  with  shelves  containing  a 
collection  of  literature  typical  of  fifty  years  ago: 
the  Spectator  in  small  calf-bound  and  discoloured 
volumes,  Pepys  and  Evelyn,  several  mythologies, 
Richardson  and  Sterne,  countless  cloth-backed 
volumes  of  the  British  poets,  the  Waverley  Novels 
in  ponderous  forms,  and  hundreds  of  other  books  of 
whose  existence  the  world  has  long  since  forgotten. 
Later  the  two  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  where 
before  a  big  oak  fire  Mrs.  Ryerson  and  Margaret 
were  awaiting  them.  It  was  a  quiet  evening  and  a 
pleasant  one.  The  two  women  were  full  of  questions 
regarding  Phillip's  college  life  which  his  letters  had 


234  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

failed  to  answer,  and  so  he  explained  a  great  deal, 
constantly  turning  to  John  for  corroboration. 

The  latter  listened,  answered  when  appealed  to, 
threw  in  a  word  of  his  own  now  and  then,  watched 
the  flames  and  sometimes  Margaret,  and  was 
delightfully  restful  and  contented.  He  was  a  trifle 
sr.ddle-sore  and  somewhat  sleepy.  At  nine  Mrs. 
Ryerson  retired,  and  after  a  few  minutes  more  of 
almost  silent  contemplation  of  the  fire  the  others 
followed  suit. 

"I'm  jolly  sleepy,"  said  Phillip.  "Besides,  we're 
to  shoot  in  the  morning.  Aunt  Cicely  is  to  give  us 
breakfast  at  seven." 

John  lay  in  the  big  four-poster  watching  the  fire- 
light dance  on  the  white  walls  and  thinking  over 
the  incidents  of  the  day  for  quite  ten  minutes. 
Then  with  the  distant  baying  of  a  foxhound  in 
his  ears  he  turned  over  and  began  to  snore. 


CHAPTER   XV 

JOHN  awoke,  threw  his  bare  arms  over  his  head, 
stretching  them  until  the  muscles  stood  out  like 
ropes,  and  opened  his  eyes.  The  room  was  in  dark- 
ness save  for  a  dim  yellow  glow  that  shone  over  the 
•high  footboard.  He  wondered  sleepily  and  closed 
his  eyes.  When  he  opened  them  again  the  yellow 
glow  hurt  them;  it  came  from  beside  the  bed  and 
'slowly  evolved  into  a  dimly  burning  lantern.  By 
it  Uncle  Casper  was  kneeling,  striking  matches  on 
the  hearth.  John  wondered  what  time  of  night  it 
was  and  hurled  himself  over  onto  his  face. 

After  awhile  he  awoke  again.  The  windows 
were  cold  squares  of  gray  light.  In  the  chimney  a 
fire  crackled  merrily,  throwing  leaping  shadows 
about  the  dim  room.  By  the  washstand  a  tin 
bucket  of  hot  water  sent  up  curling  filaments  of 
steam.  John  yawned  loudly.  The  door  opened 
and  Uncle  Casper  tiptoed  in  once  more,  bearing 
John's  shoes  and  trousers,  the  former  shining  like 
patent  leather  in  the  firelight,  the  latter  newly 

235 


236  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

brushed  and  folded.  Disposing  of  these,  the  darky 
knelt  by  the  hearth,  not  without  many  rheumatic 
protestations,  and  replenished  the  fire.  John  yawned 
again. 

"Good-morning,  Uncle,"  he  said. 

"Mawnin',  sir,  mawnin'.  I  trusts  yo'  slep'  well, 
sir?" 

' ' Like  a  top  !"  answered  John.     "What  time  is  it  ?" 

"Quarter  of  seven,  sir.  Mister  Phil's  up  an'  sends, 
his  comp'ments  an'  says  breakfas'  will  be  ready 
right  away,  sir." 

They  had  breakfast  by  lamplight,  but  the  big' 
curtains  were  drawn  back  from  the  high  windows 
and  across  the  valley  the  morning  light  swept  the 
shadows  into  the  west.  Outside  on  the  gravel  a 
dignified  procession  of  fowls  exchanged  compliments 
and  observations  on  the  weather  and  scratched  and 
pecked  diligently.  The  dogs  watched  the  front 
door  anxiously,  while  Will,  the  stable  boy,  sat  on  the 
edge  of  the  porch  and  sung  snatches  of  low- voiced 
melody  and  flipped  pebbles  at  the  indignant  pea- 
cocks. 

The  sun  was  up,  a  ball  of  fire  above  the  eastern 
hills,  when  they  left  the  house.  The  lawn  sparkled 
with  frost  and  there  was  a  pleasant  nip  in  the  air. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  237 

Tudor  Maid  and  the  red-and-white  setter,  Grover, 
frisked  ahead  excitedly  until  they  had  descended 
the  terrace  and  were  crushing  the  hoar  frost  from  the 
turf.  Will  followed  bearing  ammunition  and  lunch. 
John  and  Phillip  parted  company  and,  with  fifty 
yards  of  glittering  lawn  between  them,  strode 
briskly  toward  the  lane  that  skirted  the  lower  edge 
of  the  inclosure.  Beyond  the  lane  a  field  of  winter 
wheat  began,  but  along  the  rail  fence  the  bushes 
grew  undisturbed,  and  Grover,  stealthily  creeping 
toward  it,  suddenly  came  to  a  stand.  John,  his 
heart  leaping  suddenly  into  his  throat,  looked  to 
his  gun  and  sent  the  dog  on.  Then,  with  a  discon- 
certing whirr  and  rush  of  beating  wings,  a  small 
covey  shot  up  from  the  tangle  and  flew  across  to  the 
left.  John  emptied  both  barrels  and  a  feather  or 
two  fluttered  lazily  downward.  Phillip,  kneeling, 
raised  his  gun.  Bang!  A  partridge  quivered  in 
air,  thrashed,  and  then  came  rushing  to  earth,  turn- 
ing over  and  over.  Phillip  used  his  left  barrel,  but 
missed,  for  the  rest  of  the  covey  had  swung  toward 
the  east.  Will  picked  up  the  dead  bird  and  dropped 
it  •  grinning  into  the  bag.  John  called  across  the 
field. 

"Were  those  partridges,  Phil?" 


238  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Yes." 

"Thought  it  was  an  explosion  of  dynamite." 

"Better  luck  next  time,"  laughed  Phillip. 

They  followed-  the  fence  without  further  result 
and  crossed  into  a  meadow  that  led  with  easy  slopes 
to  the  creek  bottom.  Half-way  down  Maid  flushed 
a  covey  of  five  birds  and  Phillip  brought  down  his 
second  bird,  while  John,  his  nerves  steadier,  got  a 
fine  shot  at  a  plump  cock  and  exultantly  watched 
it  drop.  The  sun  was  well  over  the  hilltops  now  and 
the  fields  and  knolls  were  aglow  with  wan,  yellow 
light.  They  skirted  the  creek  toward  the  East  Farm, 
a  mile  distant,  where  several  coveys  were  known 
to  have  taken  up  winter  quarters. 

Back  at  the  house  Uncle  Casper  was  sweeping  the 
broad,  marble-laid  porch,  keeping  time  to  the  swing 
of  the  broom  with  a  quavering  song.  Uncle  Casper's 
vocal  efforts  were  reserved  for  such  times  as  he  was 
certain  of  being  unheard.  He  had  strict  ideas  of 
propriety  and  considered  singing  beneath  the 
dignity  of  his  office.  That  is  why,  when  he  heard  a 
swishing  of  skirts  at  the  door,  he  ceased  abruptly 
in  the  middle  of  a  bar  and  muttered  objurgations 
over  a  wisp  of  thread  which,  caught  in  a  splinter  of 
the  lintel,  obstinately  refused  to  yield  to  the  broom. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  239 

"Good-morning,  Uncle." 

He  turned  with  well-simulated  surprise. 

"  Good-ma  wnin',  Miss  Margey." 

"You  seem  very  happy  this  morning,  Uncle." 

"Ma'am?" 

"Didn't  I  hear  you  singing  a  moment  ago  ?" 

"Singin'  ?  Lie  singin'  ?"  He  looked  so  distressed 
that  Margaret  regretted  her  suspicion.  "No'm;  yo' 
didn't  hear  me  singin' ;  no'm,  I  don'  sing.  Mus'  have 
been  some  of  them  lazy,  triflin'  niggers  at  ther  stable, 
Miss  Margey.  I  got  somethin'  better  to  do  than  be 
a-singin'." 

"Have  the  gentlemen  been  gone  long?" 

"  'Bout  a  half -hour,  miss.  I  reckon  they  down 
by  ther  creek  now;  I  heard  they  guns  a-poppin' 
bit  ago." 

"Mamma's  tray  is  ready  and  you  can  take  it  up 
now.  Are  the  lamps  ready  ?" 

"Yes'm;  they's  on  ther  table."  He  gave  a  final 
flourish  of  the  broom,  looked  scathingly  at  the 
obdurate  thread  and  moved  toward  the  door. 
Margaret,  who  had  been  looking  out  across  the  sun- 
lit lawn  with  smiling  eyes,  turned  to  him. 

"Uncle,  has  Mister  Phil  said  anything  to  you — 
She  paused  at  a  loss.     "I  mean  do  you  think  he  has 


24o  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

noticed  anything  different  from — from  what  he 
was  used  to?" 

Uncle  Casper  rubbed  his  chin  reflectively  and 
brought  his  grizzled  eyebrows  together. 

"No'm;  least  he  ain't  said  nothin'  to  me.  Don' 
see  how  he  could  notice  anythin'  diff'rent,  Miss 
Margey.  You  'n'  me's  been  mighty  ca'ful,  ain't  we  ?" 

"Yes,  I  reckon  we  have,  Uncle; but — but—  Oh, 
I  do  hope  he  won't  find  out  that  we're— not  so  rich 
as  we  were  ! ' ' 

"No'm;  ain't  no  use  in  his  worryin'  'bout  it,  is 
they?  Reckon  thcy's  a  heap  o'  things  fo'  him  ter 
worry  'bout  anyhow;  reckon  bein'  edicated's  mighty 
tryin'  sort  o'  process— 'rithmatic — Latin — French 
— grammar — depo'tment — all  they  lessons  mus'  be 
pow'ful  wearin'  on  him.  But  don'  yo'  trouble,  Miss 
Margey,  we'll  git  on  all  right.  Hens  is  layin'  right 
nice,  Cicely  'lows,  an'-  He  paused  to  laugh 

softly  and  shake  his  head.  "Reckon,  though,  if 
that  they  Mister  No'th  stays  very  long  they  hens'll 
git  discouraged ;  he  done  eat  fo'  aigs  fo'  his  breakfas' 
this  mawnin'  !" 

"If  we  get  short  of  them,  Uncle,  maybe  they'll 
let  us  have  some  at  the  East  Farm,"  said  Margaret, 
smiling. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  241 

"Yes'm.  Don'  yo'  be  a-troublin',  Miss  Margey; 
I  gwine  say  a  word  to  they  hens;  I  gwine  tell  'em 
'bout  this  yer  Mister  No'th  bein'  mighty  fond  o'  aigs. 
They's  pow'ful  reason'ble  hens,  Miss  Margey  !" 

Margaret  entered  the  house,  followed  by  Uncle 
Casper,  and  passed  through  the  dining-room,  where 
Aunt  Cicely,  a  tall  mulatto,  was  clearing  the  break- 
fast table,  and  out  onto  a  small  back  porch.  This 
was  separated  from  the  hill  that  rose  sharply  behind 
the  house  only  by  a  narrow  graveled  driveway. 
The  shadow  of  the  building  rested  half-way  to  the 
summit  of  the  wooded  slope,  but  beyond  its  edge 
the  trees  and  undergrowth  were  aglow  with  mellow 
sunlight.  It  was  chilly  out  there,  and  Margaret, 
after  tying  a  long  apron  about  her,  threw  a  little 
white  shawl  over  her  shoulders. 

Filling  the  lamps  was  a  duty  that  Margaret  per- 
formed herself.  On  a  long  table  stood  oil-can, 
shears,  cloths  and  an  army  of  lamps,  big  and  little, 
from  the  porcelain-globed  monster  that  stood  in  the 
drawing-room  down  to  the  tiny  hand  lamps  used  by 
the  servants.  Margaret  maintained  that  filling  and 
trimming  lamps  was  a  science  beyond  the  compre- 
hension of  Aunt  Cicely  or  Uncle  Casper  or  Daphne, 
Mrs.  Ryerson's  maid,  and  each  morning  went  at  the 


242  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

task  with  an  amount  of  reverential  concentration 
befitting  the  performance  of  a  sacred  rite.  At 
Elaine  lamps  never  smoked  nor  went  out  in  the 
middle  of  the  evening. 

But  this  morning  the  concentration  was  not  as 
perfect  as  usual.  Margaret's  thoughts  wandered 
afield — in  fact,  to  a  field  to  the  eastward  in  which 
two  men  with  guns  were  rapidly  filling  the  game- 
bag  that  swung  over  the  shoulder  of  a  grinning 
negro.  Now  and  then,  ever  fainter  and  fainter,  the 
sound  of  the  guns  reached  the  girl  on  the  back  porch, 
and  would  have  drawn  her  thoughts  eastward  had 
they  not  already  been  speeding  that  way.  Some- 
times the  thoughts  seemed  pleasant  ones,  sometimes 
a  little  cloud  of  perplexity  filmed  the  smile  in  her 
eyes.  Once  she  sighed  softly,  and  once  she  turned 
with  chimney  and  cloth  in  hand  and  gazed  wide- 
eyed  at  the  sunlighted  summit  of  the  slope  for  a 
full  minute  ere  she  turned  back  to  her  work. 

When  the  last  lamp  had  been  filled,  the  last  wick 
trimmed,  the  last  chimney  polished  until  it  shone, 
and  when  she  had  washed  and  dried  her  hands  and 
doffed  apron  and  shawl,  she  entered  the  house  again 
and  ascended  to  her  mother's  bedroom.  Mrs. 
Ryerson  was  seated  at  the  window,  a  slim,  frail 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  243 

figure  in  a  dove-gray  dressing-gown  on  which  the 
sunlight  threw  queer  floating  shadows  of  branch 
and  twig.  A  fire  smouldered  in  the  chimney-place 
and  a  tray  on  a  low  table  bore  the  remains  of  a 
scanty  breakfast.  Daphne  was  tidying  up  the 
room,  her  leisurely  journeying  to  and  fro  taking 
her  again  and  again  in  front  of  the  west  window 
from  which  it  was  possible  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
house  garden  and  a  young  negro  engaged  in  repairing 
a  fence.  Daphne  was  young  and  pretty  from  the 
viewpoint  of  the  carpenter  outside,  and  room- 
cleaning  and  fence-building  went  slowly. 

"They're  not  back  yet?"  asked  Mrs.  Ryerson  in 
her  soft,  delicate  voice. 

"Not  yet,  mamma,"  Margaret  answered.  "But 
it's  only  half -past  nine,  you  know.  I  reckon  they'll 
not  come  for  a  long  while  yet.  They  must  have  found 
plenty  of  birds;  I  heard  their  guns  again  and 
again." 

"Yes,  I  did,  too.  Well,  I  hope  Phil  will  be  able 
to  keep  Mr.  North  entertained,  dear.  I  should 
so  dislike  having  him  return  to  his  home  thinking 
us  shabby  and  commonplace."  Mrs.  Ryerson  sighed, 
folded  her  white  hands  in  her  lap  and  looked  silently 
out  of  the  window.  Margaret  found  some  sewing 


244  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

and  drew  a  small  chair  into  the  broad  shaft  of 
sunlight. 

"He  has  wonderful  eyes,  dear." 

Margaret  looked  from  threading  her  needle  and 
laughed  softly. 

"Oh,  mamma,  you've  'done  gone'  and  fell  in  love 
again  !  And  with  a  Northerner,  too  !"  Mrs.  Ryerson 
smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"I  hope  I  shall  never  grow  so  old  that  I  shall  be 
indifferent  to  a  man's  looks,  Margey,"  she  answered. 
After  a  moment  she  added:  "Your  father  was  the 
handsomest  man  I  ever  saw." 

"Phillip  is  like  him,  isn't  he?" 

"Yes,  greatly  like,  dear.  And  more  like  than 
ever  since  he  came  back.  There's  a  difference, 
dear.  You've  observed  it?" 

"Yes;  he  seems — well,  more  quiet.  It's  as  though 
he'd  rubbed  some  of  his  corners  off,  too.  He's 
taller,  I  reckon,  and  straighter,  and — and  older." 

"Yes,  older,"  echoed  Mrs.  Ryerson.  "And  more 
like  Phillip — your  father,  I  mean.  I  think  college 
has  done  him  good  already.  But — I  don't  want 
him  to  change  much  more,  Margey."  She  dropped 
into  silence  again.  Then,  "You  haven't  told  him— 
anything  yet  ?"  she  asked. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  245 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Margaret,  shaking  her  brown 
head  above  the  garment  in  her  lap.  "What's  the 
use,  mamma  ?  It  would  only  trouble  him.  I  don't 
think  he  has  noticed  any  difference.  Perhaps — 
later — when  he  comes  home  for  the  summer ' ' 

"Yes,  he  will  have  to  know  then.  I  fear  he  will 
feel  badly  about  losing  the  place,  Margey." 

"Yes."  Margaret  looked  through  the  window 
across  the  morning  landscape.  "Yes,"  she  repeated, 

"I  know  he  will.  But "  She  didn't  finish  the 

sentence,  but  went  back  to  her  work  with  a  little 
sigh.  Daphne  bore  the  tray  away  and  for  several 
minutes  the  room  was  still.  Then  Mrs.  Ryerson 
withdrew  her  gaze  from  the  outside  world  and 
glanced  across  at  her  daughter  and  smiled  as  though 
at  her  thoughts. 

"Don't  you  think  that  he  is  very  good  looking, 
Margey?" 

"Phil?" 

"No,  dear,  Mr.  North." 

"M — yes,"  answered  Margaret,  in  the  tone  of  one 
considering  a  question  for  the  first  time. 

"And  you  like  him,  don't  you  ?" 

"I  reckon  I  do,"  was  the  reply.  "Anyhow,  I 
don't  dislike  him.  Of  course,  Phil  thinks  he's  very 


246  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

wonderful,  and  I  reckon  that's  enough,  don't  you? 
We  needn't  all  fall  down  and  worship,  need  we?" 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ryerson,  mildly,  aggrievedly, 
"I  certainly  said  nothing  about  worshiping  him. 
I  do  think  he's  an  extremely  handsome  young  man, 
with  grand  eyes,  and  a  perfect  gentleman  if  ever 
there  was  one;  quite  like  a  Virginian.  And  he  has 
been  very  kind  to  Phil,  dear,  and — and — 

"Of  course  he  has,"  Margaret  hastened  to  say, 
"and  I'll  promise  to  love  him  dearly,  mamma. 
Only — "  she  bent  and  bit  off  a  thread — "I  do  wish 
he  hadn't  quite  such  an  assured  way  of  talking  and 
doing  things — just  as  though  he  couldn't  do  any- 
thing out  of  the  way  or  say  anything  that  wasn't 
just  right." 

"But " 

"I  know,  mamma,  that's  what  makes  it  much 
worse;  he  never  does." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"I  SAY,  Margey,  Will  tells  me  you've  sold  the 
russet  harness.  I  reckon  he's  lying,  but  I  couldn't 
see  it  anywhere  in  the  stable." 

Phillip  paused  in  his  work  of  carving  a  second 
slice  of  lamb  for  John — the  morning's  gunning  had 
been  more  productive  of  hunger  than  partridges, 
although  six  brace  of  birds  had  rewarded  them — 
and  looked  anxiously  at  Margaret. 

"Will  is  right,  Phil,  "  she  answered  evenly.  "You 
know,  dear,  we're  not  quite  so  well  off  as  we  were 
before  father  died  and  it  seemed  best  to  get  rid  of 
some  of  the  extra  things.  We  didn't  really  need 
the  russet  harness.  Judge  Pottinger  took  that  and 
two  heavy  work  harnesses." 

"But— but !"  Phillip  stared  in  surprise.  "We 

are  surely  not  so  poor  that  we  have  to  sell  things 
like  that  to  the  neighbours,  Margey  !  Great  Scott, 
what  do  they  think  of  us  ?  And,  besides,  the  russet 
harness  was  the  best  of  the  lot,  and  a  heap  sweller 
than  the  black  leather.  Don't  you  think  so,  John  ?" 

247 


248  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Russet's  rather  out  of  style,  isn't  it?"  asked  the 
other. 

"Well,  I  like  it  better,  anyhow,"  asserted  Phillip, 
completing  his  carving  with  a  vicious  hack  of  the 
knife.  "And — what  else  is  gone,  Margey?  I'd 
like  to  know  so  that  when  I  see  the  neighbours  using 
our  things  I  won't  charge  them  with  stealing  them." 

Margaret's  cheeks  flushed  a  little,but  she  answered 
as  calmly  as  before : 

"I  reckon  that's  about  all,  Phil.  I'm  sorry  you 
care  so  much ;  I  didn't  think  you  would." 

Phillip  made  no  reply,  and  a  moment  later  the 
conversation  at  the  dinner  table  started  afresh  on 
other  lines.  But  constraint  was  visible.  Margaret 
felt  hurt  that  Phillip  should  have  found  fault  with 
her  before  John  North;  Phillip  was  plainly  out  of 
temper,  although  he  strove  not  to  show  it ;  and  John 
was  secretly  angry  at  his  friend  for  wounding 
Margaret.  Of  the  four,  only  Mrs.  Ryerson  main- 
tained her  equanimity.  She  chatted  on  to  John 
in  her  quiet,  grande-dame  fashion  of  life  and 
customs  before  the  war,  and  John  answered 
perfunctorily  and  wished  the  repast  over  with. 

When  they  arose  Phillip  excused  himself  and 
John  wandered  into  the  library  and  filled  a  pipe. 


THE   LAND   OP  JOY  249 

Mrs.  Ryerson,  as  was  her  invariable  custom,  ascended 
to  her  room  again  on  the  arm  of  Uncle  Casper,  and 
Margaret  disappeared  toward  the  kitchen.  John 
took  down  a  book  at  random  and  settled  himself  in 
an  easy  chair  to  read.  But  it  proved  to  be  an 
ancient  volume  of  Hudibras,  and  it  soon  lay  for- 
gotten on  his  knee.  From  where  he  sat  he  com- 
manded a  view  of  some  fifty  yards  of  gravel  drive 
and  terrace.  Presently  into  his  range  of  vision 
came  two  figures.  They  were  Phillip  and  Margaret. 
Phillip,  with  head  slightly  bent  and  a  good  deal  of 
colour  in  his  cheeks,  was  evidently  still  nursing  his 
displeasure.  Margaret  walked  beside  him,  one 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  looking  gravely  into  his  face. 
As  they  passed  outside  the  library  window  her 
voice,  low,  sweet  and  persuasive,  reached  the 
watcher  in  the  chair  and  suddenly  imbued  him 
with  .a  great  longing  to  take  Phillip  by  the  neck  and 
dip  his  head  into  the  brook  beyond  in  the  hollow. 

Then  something  incongruous  in  the  girl's  attire 
awakened  his  attention,  and  with  a  strange  throb 
at  his  heart  he  saw  that  she  wore  a  man's  felt  hat ; 
that  the  hat,  a  battered,  soiled  and  altogether 
disreputable  affair,  was  adorned  with  cabalistic 
designs  and  figures;  that  it  bore  the  initials  J.  N., 


250  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

and  that,  in  short,  it  was  his  own !  Presumably, 
Margaret  believed  it  to  be  one  of  her  brother's;  or 
perhaps  she  had  simply  picked  it  up  from  the  hall 
table  in  a  hurry  without  looking  at  it.  John  could 
not  for  an  instant  deceive  himself  into  believing 
that  there  was  any  coquetry  in  the  incident.  But 
even  viewed  purely  as  an  accident,  the  fact  that 
Margaret  wore  his  shabby  sombrero  perched  at  the 
back  of  her  head  pleased  him  vastly.  The  hat  had 
already  been  one  of  his  most  precious  possessions, 
but  now  it  was  sacred — no  longer  an  article  of  head- 
gear,but  an  object  to  be  treasured  and  kept  inviolate. 
John  wondered  if  it  were  possible  to  frame  hats. 

Phillip  and  Margaret  had  passed  from  sight,  and 
he  relighted  his  pipe  and,  clasping  one  broad  knee 
with  his  hands,  leaned  back  and  watched  the  purple 
smoke-clouds  writhe  and  dance  in  the  sunlight. 
Their  convolutions  must  have  amused  him,  for  he 
grinned  broadly  from  time  to  time  like  a  good- 
natured  and  thoroughly  prepossessing  giant. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed.  Then  the  sound 
of  footsteps  on  the  gravel  aroused  him  and  he  looked 
out.  Phillip  and  Margaret  were  returning.  But 
now  Phillip's  arm  was  about  his  sister's  waist  and 
the  two  were  laughing  contentedly.  Margaret's 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  251 

eyes  under  the  broad  brim  of  the  hat,  which  she 
had  pulled  forward  to  keep  the  sun  from  her  face, 
were  dancing  and  glowing.  Phillip  caught  sight 
of  John  and  beckoned  him  outside.  The  latter 
nodded  and  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe. 
Then  he  sighed. 

"It's  sheer  poppycock  to  imagine  that  a  girl  like 
that  can  ever  care  for  me,"  he  thought  ruefully. 
He  picked  up  the  volume  which  had  fallen  unnoticed 
to  the  floor  and  carried  it  back  to  the  shelf.  As  he 
did  so  a  line  caught  his  eye  and  he  paused  and  read 
it: 

"  He  that  is  valiant,  and  dares  fight, 
Though  drubb'd,  can  lose  no  honour  by't." 

"By  jove,  "  he  muttered,  "Butler  had  some  sense, 
after  all!" 

Phillip  and  his  sister  were  awaiting  him  before 
the  porch. 

"Put  your  hat  on  and  come  along,"  Phillip  com- 
manded. "We've  going  over  to  the  stable." 

"All  right,  but  I  don't  need  a  hat,"  John  answered 
evasively  as  he  joined  them. 

"Oh,  but  I  really  think  you'd  better  put  one 
on,"  Margaret  said.  "It's  so  easy  to  take  cold 
these  days." 


252  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Why,  of  course,  I'll  get  one."  John  returned 
to  the  hall.  But  the  choice  was  limited,  and  he 
finally  selected  a  ridiculously  small  woolen  cap 
which  didn't  begin  to  go  onto  the  back  of  his  head. 
Phillip  laughed  loudly  when  he  saw  it. 

"You're  a  sight !"  he  said.  "Look  just  like 
Tommy  Button  of  our  class.  He  has  a  head  like  a 
big  cannon  ball  and  always  wears  a  funny  little 
green  cap  at  the  back  of  it.  You  can't  see  the  cap 
until  Tommy  has  gone  by.  That's  Margaret's, 
isn't  it,  Margey?  And,  I  say,  you've  got  his!" 

"It's  of  no  consequence,"  murmured  John.  "I 
can  wear  this  beautifully  if  you  don't  mind." 

Margaret  removed  the  sombrero  and  viewed  it  in 
astonishment  that  speedily  gave  place  to  dismay. 
.  The  colour  flooded  into  her  face  as  she  held  the  hat 
toward  John. 

"I  didn't  notice,"  she  said.  "I'm  very  sorry. 
Will  you  change  with  me,  please  ?" 

John  did  so. 

"I'm  sure  you  didn't  know,"  he  answered  gravely, 
taking  pity  on  her  confusion  and  forbearing  to  utter 
any  one  of  the  numerous  gallant  things  that  came 
into  his  mind. 

"There's  a  penalty,  isn't  there?"  laughed  Phillip. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  253 

Margaret  pretended  that  she  had  not  heard,  and 
John  smiled  at  her  brother  ferociously  and  ranged 
himself  alongside. 

"I'll  break  your  neck  if  you  don't  shut  up,  Phil !" 
he  muttered  pleasantly. 

Phillip  grinned  back.  "I  wish  I  could  blush  the 
way  you  can,  John,"  he  whispered. 

Later  they  rode ;  and  John  decided  that  if  Margaret 
was  captivating  in  the  simple  gowns  he  had  seen  her 
wear  she  was  adorable  in  her  close-fitting  black 
habit.  The  way  in  which  she  managed  the  unruly 
Cardinal  was  marvelous,  and  John,  trotting  along- 
side on  his  staid  mare,  Ruby,  experienced  a  vast 
contempt  for  his  own  horsemanship.  They  went 
westward,  around  the  "hog-back,"  over  a  broad, 
well-traveled  highway  which  Phillip  explained  had 
been  built  during  the  war  by  the  Northern  army, 
past  smiling,  sunlit  fields  and  comfortable,  broad- 
porched  houses.  As  they  swept  abreast  up  a  hill 
Phillip  reined  in  and  listened  intently  with  hand  at 
ear. 

"What  is  it,  Phil?"  Margaret  turned  her  horse  and 
joined  him. 

"I  thought  I  heard  a  whistle,"  he  answered. 
John  listened  but  caught  only  the  stirring  of  the 


254  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

wind  in  the  trees  beside  them.     Phillip  pointed  to 
the  roadway. 

"It's  been  by  here  not  very  long  ago,"  he  said. 
Margaret  nodded.  John  looked  perplexedly  from 
the  road  to  Phillip. 

"What  is  it,"  he  asked;  "Injuns?" 

"No;  engine,"  answered  Margaret. 

"It's  a  traction  engine,"  Phillip  explained.  "It's 
been  up  along  here,  and  I  thought  I  heard  a  whistle. 
Ruby  can't  stand  traction  engines  and  I  reckon 
Cardinal  would  simply  throw  a  fit  if  we  met  one. 
I  reckon  we'd  better  turn  back." 

"But  it's  just  as  likely  to  have  gone  toward  town 
as  this  way,  Phil,"  Margaret  objected;  "and  I  did 
want  Mr.  North  to  see  the  view  from  Pine  Top." 

"All  right,"  Phillip  assented  doubtfully.  "When 
we  get  to  the  top  we  can  see  what's  doing." 

'Tracking  the  Traction  Engine,  or  Wild  Life  in 
Virginia,'  "  laughed  John.  "I'll  write  it  up  for  the 
Advocate." 

"No,  send  it  to  the  Illustrated,"  answered  Phillip, 
"with  our  photographs." 

They  went  on  up  the  hill,  which  was  long  but  of 
easy  ascent, and  which  at  the  summit  turned  abruptly 
to  the  right  around  a  wooded  promontory.  Cardinal 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  255 

broke  impatiently  into  a  canter  and  John's  mare 
laid  back  her  ears  and  strove  to  catch  up  with  him. 
They  reached  the  summit  and  the  turn  girth  to  girth. 
Then  several  things  happened  within  the  instant. 

A  dozen  yards  ahead  of  them,  drawn  up  to  the  side 
of  the  road,  stood  the  traction  engine,  sizzling  and 
wheezing.  Several  forms  moved  about  it,  and  even 
in  the  brief  instant  that  John  looked  a  sudden  spurt 
of  steam  arose,  there  was  a  diabolical  screech,  and 
the  monster  trundled  slowly  forward.  At  sight  of 
the  engine  both  horses  had  flung  back,  snorting  with 
fear.  The  mare  plunged  and  circled,  while  Cardinal., 
wheeling  suddenly  in  a  very  madness  of  terror, 
struck  her,  shoulder  to  thigh,  nearly  unseating  John, 
and  leaped  forward  down  the  hill. 

Margaret  had  been  riding  with  slack  reins  and 
was  wholly  unprepared,  and  ere  she  could  bring  her 
weight  upon  the  curb  Cardinal  was  in  full  and  head- 
long flight.  Phillip,  riding  several  yards  behind, 
with  the  scene  at  the  summit  hidden  from  his  sight 
by  the  trees,  heard  the  whistle  and  dug  his  spurs. 
Winchester  raced  toward  the  top  of  the  hill,  and 
at  the  same  moment  Cardinal  swept  by,  narrowly 
missing  him.  In  a  panic  Phillip  sawed  at  the  mouth 
of  Winchester  and  strove  to  turn  him,  but  before 


256  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

he  had  succeeded  the  mare,  too,  rushed  by,  her 
eyes  showing  white,  John  bent  low  over  her  neck. 

Cardinal  had  made  good  use  of  his  start.  Down 
the  whole  interminable  length  of  that  slowly  winding 
hill  he  was  not  once  in  sight  to  John's  straining  eyes. 
Trees  and  fences  whirled  by.  Ruby's  hoofs  thun- 
dered on  the  hard  roadbed  as  she  leaped  onward, 
head  outstretched,  wild  with  fear.  It  was  a  mad 
ride  in  which  a  slip  or  stumble  meant  probable 
death  to  both  rider  and  horse.  But  John,  with  the 
merest  suggestion  of  restraint  on  the  bridle-reins, 
gave  no  thought  to  danger,  but  leaned  forward  over 
the  pommel,  his  eyes  fixed  anxiously  on  the  farthest 
stretch  of  road,  his  heart  leaden  with  fear  for 
Margaret.  Only  once  did  he  look  aside.  A  black 
derby  lay  by  the  fence,  and  he  groaned  aloud  as  he 
thought  of  what  might  meet  his  sight  beyond. 

Then  the  last  turn  was  passed,  the  road  stretched 
straight  ahead,  level  and  brown  in  the  sunlight, 
and  John  gasped  with  relief,  closing  his  eyes  with  a 
momentary  qualm  of  giddiness.  Less  than  an  eighth 
of  a  mile  away  was  Cardinal  and  his  rider.  The 
horse  was  still  running  hard,  but  John  saw  that 
Margaret  sat  erect  in  her  saddle.  The  mare  gave 
signs  of  flagging — was  forgetting  her  fear  under 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  257 

physical  distress.  John  shouted  her  on,  striking 
her  madly  on  head  and  neck  with  the  reins,  and 
cursed  his  stupidity  in  having  come  out  without 
spurs.  Then  he  heard  hoof -beats  behind  him  and 
turned  to  glance  backward.  Winchester,  with 
Phillip  sitting  pale-faced  in  the  saddle,  was  over- 
taking him.  The  horse's  neck  was  flecked  with 
foam  and  he  was  bleeding  in  the  flanks  from  the 
roweling  he  had  received.  In  a  moment  the  two 
horses  were  neck  and  neck. 

"She's  safe  now — I  think  !"  shouted  Phillip. 

John  made  no  answer,  but  urged  the  mare  forward. 
With  a  snort  she  obeyed  and  side  by  side  the  two 
raced  on.  For  a  minute  a  line  of  trees  hid  Cardinal 
and  the  black  figure  upon  him  from  the  sight  of  the 
pursuers,  and  in  that  moment  John  suffered  tortures. 
Yet  when  his  eyes  again  found  them  he  saw  that 
the  interim  had  told  on  the  runaway  and  that  the 
vigour  had  gone  from  his  pace.  After'  that  they 
began  to  come  up  with  him  perceptibly.  Half 
a  mile  farther  they  were  but  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
behind.  John  turned  and  shouted  above  the  pound- 
ing of  the  hoofs: 

"She's  broke  something !" 

"Curb-rein!"  answered  Phillip. 


258  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Margaret  glanced  around ;  then  they  saw  her  settle 
back  in  her  saddle  and  saw  her  elbows  working  as 
she  bent  all  her  strength  on  the  reins.  Cardinal's 
head  came  up,  he  plunged  once  or  twice,  and  then 
came  down  to  a  canter  as  the  pursuers  caught  up 
with  him.  Phillip  and  John  flung  themselves  from 
their  horses  and  the  former  seized  Cardinal's 
bridle.  Margaret  dropped  the  reins  and  put  her 
hands  to  her  head;  her  hair  had  come  undone  and 
was  hanging  down  in  long  brown  plaits.  When 
John  saw  her  face  he  found  it  pale  but  smiling. 

"You're  all  right !"  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"Yes."  She  leaned  forward,  folding  her  hands 
upon  the  pommel.  "I  didn't  mind  after  we  were 
off  the  hill." 

John  placed  his  own  hand  over  hers.  She  felt  it 
trembling  and  looked  down  at  him  in  surprise,  her 
brown  eyes  narrowing  a  little  as  they  met  his. 

"I  thought — I  feared—  -!"  He  broke  off  with  a 
gulp,  his  white  face  working  convulsively.  Margaret's 
eyes  dropped,  and  the  colour,  which  had  begun  to 
steal  back  into  her  cheeks,  fled  again  quickly.  She 
withdrew  her  hands  slowly  from  under  his  and  her 
voice  was  uncertain. 

"I'm  sorry  I  gave  you  both  such  a  fright." 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  259 

"Shucks!"  cried  Phillip,  gazing  wrathfully  at 
Cardinal;  "it  wasn't  your  fault !  I'll  kill  this  brute 
when  I  get  him  home  !" 

"No,  Phil,  you  mustn't  hurt  Cardinal.  It  wasn't 
his  fault  either.  He  was  more  scared  than  any  of  us. 
It  was  that  awful  engine." 

"Your  gloves  are  torn  !"  exclaimed  John.  She 
held  them  up  smilingly;  each  was  ripped  up  the 
palm.  "Let  me  take  them  off,"  he  begged.  She 
hesitated  and  then  held  them  down.  John  peeled 
them  off  one  after  the  other,  leaving  bare  two  red 
and  swollen  hands. 

"The  brute!"  he  muttered,  looking  at  them 
commiseratingly.  Margaret  tried  to  withdraw  them, 
but  he  held  them  fast. 

"Are  they  hurt  ?"  he  asked. 

"No;  but  my  hair " 

He  bent  over,  and,  ere  Margaret  knew  what  he 
was  doing,  pressed  both  palms  to  his  lips. 

"Poor  little  hands !"  he  said  softly. 

Margaret  gave  a  little  gasp  and  tore  them  away. 
With  crimson  cheeks  and  averted  head  she  strove 
to  fix  her  hair.  John  turned  to  Phillip.  If  the  latter 
had  seen  he  gave  no  evidence  of  the  fact,  but  was 
examining  the  broken  rein. 


26o  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Your  sister  must  take  my  horse  the  rest  of  the 
way,"  John  said. 

"All  right ;  and  you  can  have  Winchester." 

"No,"  said  John  grimly;  "I  want  the  other.  I 
like  him.  I  think  we  shall  get  on  finely  together." 
He  stroked  Cardinal's  quivering  muzzle.  "You'd 
like  me  to  ride  you  back,  wouldn't  you,  you  nice, 
sensible  horsie?"  he  muttered.  "You  wouldn't  run 
away  with  me,  would  you?  You  don't  want  your 
damned  neck  broken,  do  you?  I'd  like  to  own  you 
for  about  ten  minutes,  you  dear  thing  !" 

Phillip  laughed.  "I  don't  reckon  I'll  trust  him 
to  you,  John.  You  take  Winchester." 

"You  nay  both  keep  your  own  horses," 
interrupted  Margaret.  "I  shall  ride  Cardinal 
myself." 

"Nonsense,"  cried  Phillip. 

"I  shall;  he  is  all  right  now,  Phil;  he's  tired  to 
death."  She  gathered  up  the  reins  with  a  little 
determined  smile. 

"Pardon  me,  Miss  Ryerson,  for  interfering,"  said 
John,  "but  I  don't  think  Cardinal  can  be  trusted. 
He's  awfully  nervous.  I  don't  think  you  ought  to 
stay  on  him." 

Their  eyes  met.  John's  were  steady  and  Margaret's 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY      .  261 

gleamed  with  the  light  of  battle.  Her  face  was 
pale  and  there  was  a  set  smile  about  the  mouth. 

"Thank  you  for  your  thoughtfulness,  Mr.  North," 
she  answered  calmly,  "but  I  don't  think  there  is 
any  danger  now.  Mount,  gentlemen  !" 

John  gazed  at  her  with  annoyance  and  admiration 
mingled.  Phillip  hesitated  doubtfully  with  his  foot 
in  the  stirrup. 

"She's  splendid,"  thought  John,  "but  she  ought 
to  be  pulled  out  of  that  saddle  and  kissed  until  she 
behaves !" 

"Come,  Cardinal !"  called  Margaret  gaily.  But 
she  was  watching  John  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes 
and  a  tight  rein  countermanded  her  own  order; 
Cardinal  stood  still.  John  drew  his  horse  toward 
her  and  made  a  pretense  of  examining  Cardinal's 
girth.  Then  he  said  in  tones  that  only  Margaret 
could  hear: 

"Get  out  of  that  saddle  at  once.  I  won't  have 
you  killed,  even  if  you  want  it.  If  you're  not  on  the 
ground  before  I  count  ten  /'// — do — it — again!" 

He  seized  her  nearest  hand.     ' '  One  !' ' 

She  stared  down  at  him  haughtily,  the  colour 
flooding  her  face  and  her  eyes  darkening. 

"Two  ! 


262  .      THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Three! 

"Four!" 

"Let  go  of  my  hand,  please,"  she  said  angrily 
but  in  low  tones. 

"Five ! 

"Six !" 

"If  you  dare—  - !"     But  her  voice  trembled. 

"Seven!" 

"What  the  deuce  are  you  two  up  to  ?"  asked  Phillip. 

"Eight!" 

"  I— I  think  I'll  let  Mr.  North  ride  Cardinal,"  said 
Margaret  unsteadily.  "  Will  you  help  me  off,  Phil  ? " 

"Why,  John  will  do  it,"  replied  Phillip  won- 
deringly. 

Margaret  bit  her  lips  and  stared  fixedly  at  Cardi- 
nal's drooping  ears. 

"Nine!"  said  John  in  a  polite,  conversational 
tone.  His  grasp  on  her  hand  tightened.  She  cast 
a  frightened  glance  at  Phillip,  who  had  mounted  and 
was  wheeling  Winchester  toward  home.  Her  eyes 
filled  as  she  dropped  the  reins  and  took  her  knee 
from  the  horn.  John  held  up  his  hands  and  she 
slipped  to  the  ground. 

"  I  hate  you  !"  she  sobbed. 

"  I  love  you  !"  he  whispered. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  overseer  came  to  supper  that  night,  looking 
very  uncomfortable  in  his  "party  clothes,"  and 
added  fifty  per  cent,  to  the  gaiety  of  the  occasion. 
He  had  a  wealth  of  good  stories  which,  while 
familiar  to  the  others,  were  new  to  John,  and  told 
them  deliciously,  with  many  a  "Gingeration  !"  and 
''By  doggie,  sir!"  John  was  sensible  of  a  quite 
unaccustomed  feeling  of  exhilaration,  and  his  high 
spirits  plainly  surprised  Phillip.  Mrs.  Ryerson 
coquetted  ceremoniously  and  impartially  with  both 
guests,  while  Margaret's  animation  verged  almost 
on  frivolity. 

"  It  seems  to  do  you  good  to  be  run  away  with," 
Phillip  told  her. 

"It  does,"  she  smiled.     "I  like  it !" 

"If  I  was  some  younger,  Miss  Margey,"  cried 
Markham  with  a  courtly  bow,  "I'd  take  yo'  at  yo' 
word  !  By  doggie,  yes,  ma'am  !" 

"Oh,  dear!  I  so  wish  you  were!"  Margaret 
sighed. 

263 


264  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

Phillip's  eyebrows  went  up.  This  was  a  new 
Margey. 

But  if  she  was  all  graciousness  to  Markham  she 
was  but  calm,  unadorned  politeness  to  John  North. 
He  was  never  for  a  moment  allowed  to  forget  that 
she  hated  him.  When  he  spoke  to  her  the  smiles 
disappeared  and  she  replied  in  the  fewest  number  of 
words  consistent  with  courtesy.  Her  manner  said: 
"  You  are  my  hated  foe ;  but  you  are  also  my  guest ! " 

And  John  throve  on  her  displeasure  and  grew 
merrier  with  every  proof  of  it. 

Arrangements  for  the  fox  hunt  were  completed 
ere  they  left  the  table,  and  afterward  they  played 
whist  before  the  drawing-room  fire,  Margaret  and 
John  against  Phillip  and  Tom  Markham.  John 
watched  Margaret's  efforts  to  avoid  playing  with 
him  with  carefully  concealed  amusement.  In  the 
end  she  defeated  her  own  purpose. 

"  I'm  such  a  frightfully  poor  player,"  she  lamented, 
"it  would  be  a  shame  to  spoil  Mr.  North's  pleasure 
by  making  us  partners." 

"That's  just  it,"  cried  Phillip.  "You  are  pretty 
rotten,  Margey,  but  John's  one  of  the  crack  members 
of  the  Harvard  Whist  Club,  and  so  that  evens  it  up. 
Come  along,  now." 


THE  LAND   OF  JOY  265 

So  Margaret  accepted  the  inevitable  and  took  the 
place  opposite  John,  where  he  could  look  into  her 
face  every  time  he  raised  his  eyes  from  his  cards. 
They  had  foemen  worthy  of  their  trumps.  Phillip 
was  a  good  player,  while  Markham  went  in  for  whist 
as  he  went  in  for  everything  else,  with  a  concentra- 
tion and  singleness  of  purpose  that  was  delightful  to 
behold  and  which  made  him  a  formidable  antagonist. 
It  is  to  be  feared  that  Margaret  purposely  vindicated 
the  reputation  she  had  claimed.  Surely,  never 
before  were  so  many  good  cards  wasted,  so  many 
aces  trumped,  such  a  blind  disregard  of  science  and 
signals  exhibited  !  But  if  her  purpose  was  to  ruffle, 
her  partner's  temper,  she  won  not  the  slightest 
vestige  of  success.  John's  tranquillity  remained 
impervious.  Phillip  wondered  and  exclaimed: 

"Good  heavens,  Margey  !  What  were  you  up  to 
then  ?  You're  playing  fifty  times  worse  than  I  ever 
knew  you  to — and  that's  saying  a  heap  !" 

"Thank  you,  Phil,  dear!" 

"John  will  think  you  were  raised  in — in — I  don't 
know  what — where!" 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  answered  Margaret  very 
gravely,  "but  I  warned  Mr.  North  of  what  to 
expect." 


266  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Really,  I  think  your  playing  is  very  good, 
Miss  Ryerson,"  interposed  John,  with  equal  gravity. 
"For  my  part,  I  am  quite  satisfied.  And  if  you're 
satisfied  and  I'm  satisfied,  where  does  Phil  come  in? 
Nowhere.  Your  lead,  Mr.  Markham." 

Now  there  was  a  bit  of  polite  perjury  that  should 
have  won  the  thanks  and  admiration  of  any  one  in 
Margaret's  place.  Yet,  for  some  reason,  the  effect 
on  Margaret  was  quite  the  reverse  of  pleasing  and 
did  not  soften  her  heart  and  move  her  to  reform ;  on 
the  contrary,  she  played  worse  than  before  and 
exasperated  Phillip  to  fresh  remonstrance. 

"Margey!     You  did  it  again  that  hand!" 

"Did  what,  Phil?" 

"Why,  trumped  his  ace  !" 

"  Did  I  ?     Did  I  trump  your  ace,  Mr.  North  ? " 

"I  believe  you  did,"  John  answered  calmly. 
"  But  I  don't  think  Phil  understands  your  play." 

"No,  hanged  if  I  do  !"  muttered  Phillip. 

"While  I  do— perfectly." 

Margaret  frowned  suspiciously  and  had  the  grace 
to  blush.  And  John  saw  the  blush  and  thought  it 
lovely  and  played  a  card  that  caused  Tom  Mark- 
ham's  hands  to  tremble  with  triumph.  Yet,  despite 
all  handicaps — not  the  least  of  which  was  his  inability 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  267 

to  keep  his  eyes  on  the  game — John  won  out  at  the 
end,  and  Markham  drew  his  long  length  carefully 
from  his  chair  and  sighed  enviously. 

"  Gingeration,  Mr.  No'th,  sir  !  I  just  wish  I  could 
play  the  game  the  way  you  can.  I  never  saw  any- 
thing like  it !  It's  a  pleasure,  sir,  to  be  defeated  by 
you,  sir  !  By  doggie,  yes,  sir  !" 

John  sat  for  a  full  half -hour  in  front  of  the  fire  in 
his  bedroom,  attired  only  in  a  suit  of  red-and-white 
pajamas,  and  smoked  his  pipe  and  watched  the 
flames.  He  didn't  always  see  the  flames,  however, 
and  his  thoughts  were  at  least  the  length  of  the  house 
from  them.  He  reviewed  the  day's  events  and  grew 
cold  at  recollection  of  that  frightful  and  anxious 
race  down  Pine  Top,  and  warm  at  the  memory  of 
what  had  followed.  He  wondered  whether  he  had 
made  a  mistake  in  "showing  his  hand"  so  early  in 
the  game,  and  believed  he  hadn't.  On  its  face  it 
appeared  a  reckless,  impossible,  even  frivolous  thing 
to  make  a  declaration  of  love — even  an  off-hand 
one — twenty-four  hours  after  first  meeting  a  woman. 
But  John  found  extenuating  circumstances. 
In  the  first  place,  it  had  been  entirely  unpre- 
meditated. In  the  second  place,  his  acquaintance- 
ship with  Margaret  was  not  limited  to  twenty-four 


268  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

hours;  he  had  known  her  ever  since  he  had 
known  Phillip.  Corliss'  allusion  to  her  had  aroused 
his  curiosity  and  sympathy  and  appealed  to  his 
imagination.  He  had  fallen  in  love  with  her  the 
moment  he  had  seen  her  picture  on  Phillip's  mantel. 
His  passion — not  a  very  deep  one  then,  perhaps — 
had  been  fed  by  their  short  correspondence  and  by 
the  constant  mention  of  her  name  and  news  of  her 
doings  doled  out  by  Phillip.  And  then  he  had  seen 
her  in  the  flesh !  And  now  it  was  all  confirmed, 
established,  irrevocable ! 

No,  he  didn't  believe  he  had  hurt  his  chances  by 
his  impulsive  words.  He  was  not  an  expert  in 
affairs  of  the  heart.  Had  he  ever  felt  the  slightest 
desire  to  do  so — which  he  never  did — he  could  have 
counted  his  love  affairs  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand 
and  still,  perhaps,  have  a  thumb  left  untapped.  He 
had  never  made  a  study  of  the  pleasant  art  of  making 
love,  yet  he  had  learned  somehow  that  interest  must 
precede  affection,  and  had  a  strong  suspicion  that  no 
woman  can  fail  to  feel  interest  in  a  man  who  has 
declared  his  love  for  her,  no  matter  how  indifferent 
to  his  passion  she  may  be. 

No;  on  the  whole  he  was  very  well  satisfied  with 
his  second  day  at  Elaine.  It  did  not  occur  to  him 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  269 

as  among  the  possibilities  that  Margaret  could  really 
cherish  resentment  against  him  for  what  he  had 
done.  She  was  beautiful  to  him  in  every  way,  and 
he  loved  her.  Then  why  not  tell  her  so  ?  It  was  the 
natural  thing  to  do,  and  he  had  done  it.  To  be  sure, 
she  was  justified  in  finding  fault  with  his  method; 
he  owned  to  himself  that  he  had  been  rather  crude, 
almost  discourteous ;  and  on  that  score  she  was  right 
to  show  displeasure.  But  in  the  end 

He  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  and  pulled 
himself  erect,  yawning  cavernously.  The  fire  was 
low  and  little  chills  were  sporting  up  and  down  his 
back.  He  blew  out  the  light  and  crawled  into  the 
four-poster.] 

In  the  end  she  must  love  him.  His  college  career 
would  come  to  an  end  in  June;  after  that  should 
come  another  career  in  which  his  curriculum  should 
be  Margaret  and  of  which  the  degree  should  be 
Margaret's  love.  But  suddenly  his  pleasant  con- 
fidence received  a  shock.  What  if  there  should  be 
—was — some  one  else? 

He  sat  up  and  blinked  in  consternation  at  the  fire- 
light. What  about  that  other  chap,  that  cousin? 
What  was  his  name  ?  Willis  ?  Who  the  deuce  was 
this  Willis  and  where  did  he  come  in  ?  He  dropped 


270  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

his  head  back  on  the  pillow.  He  would  find  out 
about  this  Nate — that  was  it ! — Nate  Willis.  He 
would — ask  Phillip — in — the  morn 

Then  he  commenced  snoring  peacefully. 

Sunday  came  and  went,  and  Monday,  and 
Tuesday,  with  untroubled  skies,  brisk,  mellow 
noons  and  frosty  nights.  The  ice  formed  hard  on 
the  little  ponds  and  they  went  skating.  And  they 
shot  more  partridges,  and  rode  and  drove;  and  to 
John  every  moment  was  filled  with  pleasure.  And 
yet  his  love  affair  progressed  not  at  all.  Strive  as 
he  might  to  find  or  beguile  Margaret  away  from  the 
companionship  of  Mrs.  Ryerson  or  Phillip  or  from 
the  mysterious  duties  that  kept  her  so  much  of  the 
time  in  that  impenetrable  region  of  the  house  reigned 
over  by  Aunt  Cicely,  he  was  always  unsuccessful. 
To  be  sure — and  here  was  doubtful  cause  for 
self-gratulation — Margaret's  manner  toward  him 
was  what  it  had  been  of  old,  before  she  had  found  it 
necessary  to  hate  him.  But  John  wasn't  satisfied. 

Meanwhile  he  had  disposed  of  Nate  Willis — or, 
rather,  Phillip  had  done  it  for  him.  And  no  other 
pretender  had  appeared  on  the  horizon.  John  found 
encouragement  in  these  facts.  But  meanwhile,  too, 
his  stay  at  Elaine  was  already  half  over,  for  he  had 


promised  David  to  come  to  him  in  New  York  the 
next  Sunday.  He  sighed  dolefully  and  for  a 
minute  entertained  the  wild  idea  of  telegraphing 
David  that  he  was  dead  and  couldn't  join  him. 
But,  as  he  realized  with  a  grin  the  next  moment, 
that  wouldn't  do,  for  Davy  would  be  certain  to  come 
down  to  the  funeral. 

The  fox  hunt  had  been  highly  successful.  That 
is  to  say,  from  certain  viewpoints.  Margaret  and 
Phillip  '  and  the  indefatigable  Colonel  Brownell — 
who  looked  every  minute  of  his  sixty-eight  years 
and  rode  to  hounds  like  a  youngster — had  been  in 
at  the  death,  while  John,  accompanied  by  Tom 
Markham,  whose  courtesy  and  hospitality  would  not 
allow  him  to  leave  the  guest  behind,  had  plodded 
unexcitedly  along  some  half-mile  in  the  rear.  John's 
clothes  bore  streaks  and  large  expanses  of  brown 
earth  on  one  side,  as  did  Ruby's  knees,  that  all  who 
rode  might  read.  John  did  not  mind  the  spill  over 
a  tumble-down  fence  onto  a  frost-cracked  ground, 
but  he  did  mind  seeing  his  hopes  of  a  talk — desultory, 
perchance,  but  still  a  talk — with  Margaret  come  to 
naught.  For  that  is  just  what  had  happened.  As 
soon  as  ever  they  were  off  Cardinal  had  sprung  to 
the  front  of  the  field  of  some  dozen  horses,  and 


272  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

John's  efforts  to  come  up  to  her  on  Ruby  were 
unavailing.  He  had  urged  on  the  mare  vigourously, 
but  she  was  no  match  for  Cardinal,  and  the  hurry 
accomplished  only  a  sudden  tumble  of  horse  and 
rider,  luckily  without  painful  results. 

The  hunters  rode  homeward  in  a  bunch,  Colonel 
Brownell  and  two  younger  men  from  the  village 
completely  frustrating  any  designs  John  may  have 
entertained  of  riding  beside  Margaret.  He  fell  back 
on  the  society  of  Phillip  and  Tom  Markham,  and, 
since  their  route  lay  over  the  better  part  of  three 
adjoining  estates,  learned  much  of  interest  regarding 
farming  methods,  soil  qualities,  cattle -grazing  and 
land  values.  From  a  hill  his  companions  indicated 
the  confines  of  Elaine  on  three  sides,  and  for  the 
first  time  he  began  to  have  some  conception  of  what 
the  care  of  1,600  acres  meant.  He  viewed  Markham 
with  increased  interest  and  new  respect. 

"Can  this  cattle  business  be  made  to  pay,  Mr. 
Markham?"  he  asked,  as  they  rode  onward  toward 
the  home  farm,  which  was  just  in  sight  toward  the 
north. 

"Yes,  sir,  by  doggie,  Mr.  No'th !  But  yo'  need 
money,  sir.  Yo'  got  to  buy  when  cattle  are  cheap 
an'  yo'  got  to  have  ready  cash  to  do  it.  That's  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  273 

trouble  with  a  heap  of  folks  'round  here,  Mr.  No'th ; 
they  aint  got  the  cash  ready  to  plank  right  down 
when  it's  needed." 

"It's  going  to  pay  for  us,  isn't  it,  Tom?"  asked 
Phillip.  "You  wait  until  I  get  through  college  and 
you'll  see !  I'm  going  to  make  a  different  place  of 
Elaine  !" 

John  was  silent,  and  Markham  looked  away  and 

worked  his  long  jaws  hurriedly,  generously  decorat- 

« 

ing  the  roadside  with  tobacco  juice. 

"There's  most  too  much  land  here,  Phil,"  he  said 
presently. 

"I  don't  think  so,  Tom;  the  more  land  the  more 
grass,  and  the  more  grass  the  more  cattle  we  can 
handle.  Besides,  it  wouldn't  do  to  sell  any  part 
of  Elaine.  Why,  I'd  rather — rather  let  it  grow  up 
in  timber  again !" 

"There's  going  to  be  money  in  timber  'round 
here  mighty  soon,"  said  the  overseer.  "Every- 
body's cuttin'  it  down  like  all  git  out." 

"What  does  lumber  cost  around  here?"  asked 
John.  Markham  looked  over  at  him  gratefully 
and  the  conversation  turned  into  new  channels. 

Christmas  Day  dawned  bright  and  clear  but  colder 
than  any  since  John  had  been  there.  Uncle  Casper 


274  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

made  his  appearance  rather  late,  rubbing  his  hands 
briskly,  and  wearing  a  half -frozen  appearance. 

"Pow'ful  cold,  sir,  this  mawnin',"  he  volunteered 
as  he  laid  the  fire.  "Ev'ything's  friz  up  tight;  yes, 
sir.  Reckon,  though,  you  folkses  up  No'th  has  it  a 
heap  colder'n  this,  sir?" 

"Yes,  Uncle,  we  wouldn't  call  this  anything  where 
I  come  from.  I  see  your  wood  lights  all  right  ?" 

"Sir?     Yes,  sir." 

"Oh,  well,  it  isn't  really  cold  then.  When  it  gets 
so  that  the  wood  freezes  and  won't  catch  fire  we 
call  it  chilly  up  North." 

The  darky  paused  with  a  flaring  pine  splinter  in 
his  benumbed  fingers  and  stared  with  round  eyes. 

"  'Fore  Gawd,  Mister  No'th !"  he  ejaculated 
finally.  "I  never  heard  tell  of  that.  Whoo — eel 
No,  sir,  I  reckon  we  jus'  don't  know  what  cold  is, 
sir.  My  nephew  he  works  up  in  New  Yo'k;  he's 
a  waiter  in  a  mons'rous  big  hotel  up  there.  He 
done  tol'  me  that  they  fust  winter  he  was  there  he 
come  mighty  nigh  perishin'  with  they  cold ;  yes,  sir. 
But,  Lordie,  sir,  I  didn't  s'pect  it  was  like  that !" 
He  ambled  out,  shaking  his  head  and  muttering 
volubly. 

When  Will  returned  from  Melville  with  the  mail 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  275 

he  also  bore  two  packages,  one  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Ryerson  and  one  to  Margaret.  When  opened  they 
divulged  great,  long-stemmed  red  roses  and  in  the 
little  envelopes  were  John's  cards;  he  had  ordered 
the  blossoms  by  mail  from  Washington.  Margaret 
loved  flowers,  and  the  gift  dispelled  the  last  of  her 
resentment  toward  John,  a  resentment  which  during 
the  past  two  days  she  had  experienced  much  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  alive.  John  surmised  his  complete 
forgiveness  and  was  comforted.  Somehow,  despite 
that  in  the  kitchen  preparation  of  a  big  Christmas 
dinner  was  going  forward,  Margaret  found  more 
leisure  from  household  duties  that  day  than  on  any 
day  since  John  had  transgressed,  and  she  made  no 
efforts  to  avoid  his  society. 

The  mail  brought  letters  to  John  and  one  to 
'Phillip — at  least,  it  resembled  a  letter  in  outward 
appearance.  But  when,  in  the  seclusion  of  his 
room,  Phillip  tore  it  madly  open,  he  found  only  a 
small  photograph.  But  he  didn't  seem  disap- 
pointed. On  the  back  of  the  picture  were  the 
words,  penned  in  large,  stylish  and  very  illegible 
characters,  "Phillip  from  Betty."  Although  he 
kept  it  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  jacket  all  day — 
and  for  many  days  thereafter — and  referred  to  it 


276  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

surreptitiously  whenever  occasion  allowed,  it  was 
not  exhibited  to  any  one,  not  even  to  John.  The 
latter's  letters  were  from  his  mother  and  David. 
The  former  spoke  encouragingly  of  his  father's 
health.  The  letter  was  written  from  Mentone. 

"The  doctor  spent  Friday  and  Saturday  with  us 
here  and  was  much  pleased  with  your  father's  con- 
dition. He  says  that  if  the  improvement  continues 
until  spring  there  will  be  no  good  reason  for  staying 
abroad  longer  than  April.  Of  course  your  father 
is  delighted;  he  is  already  busy  planning  for  the 
trip  home.  I  hope  the  excitement  will  not  undo 
any  of  the  good  work,  and  I  do  hope  above  all  else 
that  he  won't  be  disappointed.  I,  too,  dearest, 
will  be  glad  to  get  home  once  more.  It  seems  ages 
and  ages  since  we  left.  The  doctor  even  thinks  that 
next  winter  your  father  can  safely  remain  there,  in 
some  mild  climate  like  Asheville  or  Aiken.  That 
seems  almost  too  much  to  hope  for,  doesn't  it  ?  But 
we  shall  see.  I  think  we  shall  close  up  the  Worcester 
house,  John,  for  it  seems  scarcely  worth  while  keep- 
ing it  up  unless  you  expect  to  be  there  for  any  length 
of  time  in  the  Summer.  Your  father  talks  of  going 
into  the  Adirondacks,  and  if  we  do,  of  course  we 
shall  want  you  to  be  with  us  all  the  time .  or  as  much 


277 
./ 

of  the  time  as  you  can  give  us.  He  sends  his  love 
and  a  little  present,  which  must  do  for  both  of  us, 
since  I  really  don't  know  what  to  give  you,  dearest, 
that  you  would  care  for.  I  hope  you  are  enjoying 
your  visit  in  Virginia.  Your  father  wants  you  to 
write  and  tell  him  about  the  country  there,  and 
says  you're  to  stop  and  see  Mr.  Corliss  on  your  way 
back." 

John  placed  the  check  in  his  pocketbook  and 
thoughtfully  nibbled  a  corner  of  the  letter,  staring 
out  of  the  hall  window  across  the  pleasant,  peaceful 
prospect  of  sunny  hill  and  valley.  It  was  mid- 
morning,  and  the  frozen  crust  of  earth  was  softening 
under  the  warmth  of  the  sun ;  the  file  of  turkeys  as 
they  picked  their  way  across  the  drive  left  three- 
pronged  footprints  on  the  gravel.  In  the  trees  the 
birds  were  chirping  busily. 

"Coming  back,"  John  muttered.  "Jove,  that's 
good  news !  And — yes,  I  think  I  can  manage  it !" 
He  smiled  as  though  well  pleased  with  his  thoughts, 
and  opened  David's  epistle.  This  was  characteris- 
tically brief  and  to  the  point.  Life  had  been  going 
very  slowly  with  the  writer  and  he  blamed  it  all  on 
John's  absence.  He  wished  the  latter  a  Merry 
Christmas,  and  informed  him  that  he  had  bought  a 


278  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

present  for  him — it  didn't  amount  to  much — and 
that  he  would  have  sent  it  if  he  hadn't  misplaced 
it  somewhere.  "But  I'll  look  it  up  and  have  it  ready 
for  you  when  you  arrive,"  he  wrote.  "You're 
coming  Sunday.  Don't  forget.  If  you  don't  come 
I  swear  I'll  go  down  to  Virginia  and  bring  you  back 
bodily.  Also  I'll  give  you  a  damned  good  hiding. 
"Yours  faith'ly,  DAVID." 

"P.  S. — The  governor  has  presented  me  with  a 
dangerous-looking  automobile  thing.  It  is  a  lovely 
crimson.  You  pull  things  and  it  goes.  I  can  make 
it  go  finely,  but  I  haven't  found  out  yet  how  to  stop 
it.  When  you  come  we'll  try  it  in  the  park. 

"P.  S.  No.  2.— How's  Margaret?" 

Dinner  was  an  event  that  day.  The  overseer  was 
there  and  a  certain  "Uncle  Bob,"  a  younger  brother 
of  Mrs.  Ryerson,  who  lived  in  Richmond.  In  the 
evening  a  handful  of  young  persons  of  both  sexes 
came  out  from  Melville  and  there  was  an  informal 
dance,  and,  what  pleased  "Uncle  Bob"  much  more, 
a  monstrous  bowl  of  punch  which  stood  in  the  hall 
wreathed  with  holly  and  mistletoe. 

John  danced  with  Margaret  as  often  as  she  would 
allow,  and  amazedly  wondered  why  dancing  had 
never  really  appealed  to  him  before  that  evening. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  279 

No  mention  was  made  on  either  side  of  the  incident 
of  Saturday's  ride.  John  understood  that  he  had  been 
forgiven  and  that  Margaret  had  reinstated  him  in 
her  good  graces,  but  that  there  was  to  be  no  repetition 
of  the  offense  under  penalty  of  renewed  excommuni- 
cation. And  to  this  decree  John  for  the  present 
bowed  submissively. 

About  midnight  the  visitors  left,  professing  great 
consternation  at  a  thin  veneer  of  snow  which  covered 
the  drive,  and  talking  muck  of  being  snowed 
in  on  the  way  to  town,  and  John  and  "Uncle 
Bob"  formed  themselves  into  a  rescue  party, 
protesting  their  readiness  to  do  battle  against  the 
element  with  brooms  and  dust  pans.  Afterward  the 
rescue  party  and  Phillip  and  Tom  Markham  retired 
to  the  library  to  smoke.  "Uncle  Bob"  insisted  upon 
taking  the  still  undepleted  punch  bowl  with  him, 
and  at  half  past  one  John  and  Phillip  assisted  the 
Richmond  relative  to  his  room.  Markham  took 
himself  off  intensely  serious  and  dignified,  but  it  was 
noticeable  that  he  experienced  unaccustomed  diffi- 
culty in  climbing  into  his  saddle. 

Phillip,  with  the  memory  of  that  famous  affair  at 
the  theatre  in  mind,  had  followed  John's  example 
and  had  spared  the  punch. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  next  day  dawned  warm  and  fair.  After 
breakfast  John  lounged  out  to  the  porch,  while 
Phillip  went  upstairs  to  see  his  mother,  on  whom  the 
excitement  of  the  evening  before  had  told  not  a 
little.  "Uncle  Bob"  had  not  appeared  at  break- 
fast, but  had  sent  word  that  he  had  a  touch  of  gout 
and  would  stay  in  his  room  for  awhile.  The  mes- 
sage summoned  a  wink  from  Phillip  and  caused 
Margaret  to  smile  demurely  behind  the  coffee  urn. 

John  lighted  a  cigar  and  seated  himself  in  the 
sun  with  his  back  against  one  of  the  ferocious  lions, 
one  knee  well  up  under  his  chin  and  his  heel  kicking 
idly  at  the  granite  block.  Before  him  the  driveway 
swept  sloping  away  invitingly  toward  the  park  gate. 
He  wondered  whether  Margaret  would  go  for  a 
stroll  with  him  if  he  penetrated  to  the  kitchen  regions 
and  asked  her.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  in 
search  of  her,  when  footsteps  sounded  behind  him 
and  Margaret  appeared  in  the  doorway.  He  tossed 
away  his  cigar  and  jumped  to  his  feet. 

280 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  281 

"Won't  you  come  out  ?"  he  begged.  "It's  so  nice 
here  in  the  sun."  She  nodded  smilingly,  disap- 
peared, and  in  a  moment  came  out  with  a  little  cape 
about  her  shoulders.  John  pulled  forward  a  chair, 
but  she  took  a  seat  on  the  step  and  he  went  back 
to  his  lion.  For  awhile  they  talked  of  the  dance, 
of  the  townsfolk,  of  gout-ridden  "Uncle  Bob,"  of 
Virginia  weather,  and  finally  of  Cambridge  and  the 
approaching  term. 

"And  in  June  you're  all  through  college?"  asked 
Margaret.  "Are  you  sorry?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so.  I'm  glad  that  I'm  through 
with  it  and  sorry  I've  got  to  go  away.  One  gets 
to  know  so  many  good  fellows,  and  grows  to  like 
Cambridge  so  well  that  he  rather  hates  to  pack  up 
for  good.  My  roommate — his  name's  Meadowcamp ; 
perhaps  Phil  has  spoken  of  him?  After  he  finished 
last  year  he  began  a  graduate  course.  I've  always 
told  him  that  it  was  because  he  was  too  lazy  to  move 
away.  But  now,  just  lately,  I've  begun  to  think 
that  it  was  chiefly  because  Davy  hated  to  leave 
college;  a  fellow  gets  so  used  to  it  all  in  the  four 
years.  I  know  that  I  shall  feel  rather  lost  and  out 
of  it  when  September  comes  and  I  find  I'm  not  back 
in  Cambridge. ' '  He  paused  and  looked  thoughtfully 


282  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

across  the  lawn.  "Davy — Meadowcamp,  you  know 
—wants  me  to  take  a  graduate  course,  and  I'm 
almost  tempted  to  do  it.  But — well,  there  would 
be  little  use  in  it.  It  isn't  as  though  I  was  preparing 
myself  for  something  definite,  you  see.  I  suppose 
I  could  study  law.  That's  a  good  excuse  for 
staying  there ;  but  I  haven't  the  slightest  desire  to 
become  a  lawyer.  I'd  never  win  a  case,  I  know." 

"What  are  you  going  to  be?"  Margaret  asked. 
John  smiled,  then  frowned  and  gave  a  shrug. 

"  That's  the  question, "  he  answered.  "  My  father 
would  like  me  to  take  hold  of  his  business  with  him. 
He  makes  wire  nails  in  an  immense  ugly  brick 
building  that  covers  acres  of  ground  in  Worcester. 
Perhaps  I  shall.  I  don't  like  it,  though.  Besides, 
my  father  isn't  really  as  keen  about  it  as  he  used 
to  be.  A  few  years  ago  he  owned  the  whole  thing 
himself  and  thought  of  nothing  else  but  wire  nails — 
almost  lived  in  his  office  and  just  about  ruined  his 
health;  he's  been  abroad  now  for  three  years  as  a 
result.  Then  the  trust  came  along  and  gobbled  up 
the  factory.  Father's  vice-president  of  the  trust 
now  and  makes  much  more  money  than  he  used  to ; 
but  he  isn't  specially  happy  and  he  has  rather  lost 
interest.  It  isn't  the  same  as  being  the  whole  thing 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  283 

yourself,  you  see,  Miss  Ryerson.  And  I  don't 
believe  he'd  feel  very  badly  if  I  balked  at  wire 
nails."  » 

" But  what  do  you  want  to  be?"  Margaret  leaned 
forward,  her  chin  in  her  hand,  and  observed  him 
curiously. 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  John  vexedly.  "I  wish 
I  did.  I've  often  wished  that  we  had  just  enough 
money  to  live  on  quietly;  then,  I  guess,  I'd  have  to 
be  something,  and  I  should  probably  know  what. 
Just  now  it  looks  as  though  I  should  be  a  loafer.  Do 
you  like  loafers,  Miss  Ryerson?" 

Margaret  shook  her  head. 

"Then  I  shan't  be  one,"  he  said,  smilingly. 
"  I—  He  stopped  and  studied  his  hands  for  a 

moment.  "When  I  said  I  don't  know  what  I  want 
to  be  I  wasn't  quite  telling  the  truth.  I  do  know 
what  I  want  to  be  and  what  I  want  to  do.  Only 
it  seems  so  idiotic  that  I'm  rather  ashamed  to  tell 
you. "  He  looked  up  for  encouragement  and  found 
it  in  the  little  grave  smile  she  gave. 

"Well,  since  I  came  down  here  and  have  seen  this 
country,  and  seen  the  jolly,  quiet,  healthful  sort  of 
life  you  Virginians  lead,  I — I've  wanted  to  come 
here,  too,  and  live  among  these  hills  and  fields.  I'd 


284  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

like  to  buy  land  here  and  farm  it,  and  ride  and 
hunt  and  shoot  now  and  then,  and  wear  out  my 
old  clothes,  ?,nd  lh*e  quietly  and  contentedly  and 
respectably  all  my  life  and  die  of  gout  at  a  good 
old  age." 

Margaret  laughed  quietly  and  shook  her  head. 
"I'm  glad  you  like  our  country  and  the  way  we 
live,"  she  said  gravely,  "but  I  don't  think  it  would 
do  for  you.  You'd  like  it  well  enough  at  first,  I 
don't  doubt;  but  then  you'd  get  tired  of  our  hum- 
drum life  and  tired  of  farming,  and  you'd  long  to 
get  back  to  the  world  you  know.  Besides,  there's 
more  in  farming  than  appears  on  the  surface, 
Mr.  North,  and  I  fear  you  couldn't  learn  it  in  a 
year,  or  even  five. " 

"I  know  that.  And  when  I  said  farming  I  was 
thinking  of  cattle." 

"But  what  I  said  of  farming  is  just  as  true  of 
cattle.  I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  pay. " 

"But  I  wouldn't  care  a  great  deal  if  it  didn't. 
It  would  be  an  occupation.  Lots  of  occupations 
don't  pay." 

"You'd  be  just  a  kind  of  idler,  then,  wouldn't 
you?  I  mean,  you  wouldn't  be  accomplishing 
anything  for  yourself  or  for  any  one  else.  It's  so 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  285 

easy  to  do  things  that  don't  pay  and  that  lead  to 
nothing. " 

"You're  terribly  discouraging,"  laughed  John, 
more  than  half  vexed.  "For  that  matter,  perhaps 
it  would  pay.  I  could  get  a  good  overseer  and  let 
him  do  the  managing." 

"While  you  did  the  riding  and  shooting  and 
hunting  and  acquired  the  gout?"  She  shook  her 
head.  "  That  wouldn't  do. " 

"Well,"  he  answered,  "I  hadn't  thought  very 
seriously  of  trying  it,  Miss  Ryerson,  but  now — I 
believe  I'll  do  it  if  only  to  show  you  that  I  can. " 

"I  should  be  sorry  to  have  anything  I've  said 
lead  you  into  losing  your  money,  Mr.  North. 
And  so  I'll  take  everything  back.  You  could  do  it 
beautifully;  being  a  Northerner,  you  would,  of 
course,  understand  our  way  of  doing  things ;  having 
had  a  good  college  education  you  would,  naturally, 
be  thoroughly  fitted  to  buy  and  sell  cattle  at  a 
profit;  and  good  overseers  are  found  everywhere; 

and  with  a  good  overseer But,  dear  me,  what 

am  I  saying?  Without  a  good  overseer,  Mr.  North, 
there  is  not  the  least  doubt  in  the  world  but  that 
you'd  become  immensely  wealthy  in  a  very  short 
time — say  two  or  three  years. " 


286  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

She  still  leaned  with  chin  in  palm,  and  the  little 
smiling,  half -mocking  expression  in  the  warm  brown 
eyes  tempted  John  to  do  rash  things.  With  an 
effort  he  laughed  lightly. 

"You're  right,  of  course,"  he  said.  "I'm  an 
idiot  to  think  of  such  things.  And  it  is  only  kind- 
ness, I  know,  that  prompts  you  to  show  me  my 
absolute  incapacity  and  impracticability.  Only — 
well,  it's  a  bit  jarring  to  my  vanity. " 

"That's  not  kind,"  she  answered.  "I've  said 
nothing  about  incapacity.  I  know  you're  not 
incapable;  Phil  has  told  us  enough  about  you  to 
prove  that,  Mr.  North.  And  I  reckon  you're  very 
practical.  Maybe  you  could  come  here  and  buy 
land  and  make  it  pay  you ;  I  think  you  could  if  any 
Northerner  could.  There,"  she  smiled,  "does  your 
vanity  feel  better?" 

"Much,  thank  you." 

"But,"  she  continued,  serious  again,  "I  don't 
think  even  you  could  do  it.  We're  different  from 
you  people;  we  do  things  differently;  we're  slower 
and  easier-going;  I  reckon  we're  what  you  say  we 
are — shiftless." 

John  strove  to  expostulate,  but  she  went  on : 

"  But  it's  our  way — the  way  we  were  taught  and 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  287 

brought  up  and  the  way  we're  used  to.  And  you'd 
have  trouble  with  your  hands,  too.  Negroes  aren't 
what  they  were  once;  they're  shiftless  and  lazy, 
and  won't  work  except  when  they  have  to — at  least, 
that's  true  of  the  negroes  around  here.  Good 
overseers  are  hard  to  find,  Mr.  North,  and  there 
aren't  many  at  the  best.  If  you  could  find  one, 
perhaps But  I  wouldn't  make  the  experiment.  " 

"Thank  you.  I've  no  doubt  but  that  what  you 
say  is  true ;  I'm  sure  you  must  know  if  any  one  does. 
Although,"  he  added,  "it  sounds  odd  to  hear  you 
talking  about  these  things  so  intimately. " 

"I  suppose  it  does,  but  I've  learned  them;  and 
I've  seen  one  or  two  experiments  of  the  sort  you 
speak  of  tried  hereabouts.  At  least,  you  must 
acknowledge  that  I  am  disinterested,  Mr.  North. 
I  might  have  encouraged  you  and  then  sold  you 
part  of  Elaine.  You  know  it  is  for  sale  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  John,  "I  know.  It's  a  shame, 
Miss  Ryerson.  I  shouldn't  think  you  could  stand 
the  thought  of  — of  parting  with  it. " 

"I  can't.     And  so  I  don't  think  of  it — much." 

"But — wouldn't  it  be  possible  to  do  something 
else?  Couldn't  you  lease  it ?" 

"We  might,  but  that  would  only  be  putting  off 


288  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  inevitable.  I  reckon  you '-don't  know  how  poor 
we  are,  Mr.  North,"  she  said  with  a  little  troubled 
smile.  "  I  think  I'd  like  to  tell  you.  Even  mamma 
doesn't  know — quite." 

"  I  shall  feel  honoured,  Miss  Ryerson,"  he  answered 
earnestly.  "  But  if  it — well,  if  it  hurts  to  talk  about 
it,  please  don't." 

"  I  think  it  would  do  me  good  to  tell  some  one, " 
she  answered  gravely.  "And  since  we've  already 
made  a  sort  of — family  counselor  of  you,  Mr.  North, 
I  know  you  won't  mind  playing  the  part  of  a  father 
confessor,  too.  Your  kindness  to  Phil  and  to 
us " 

"Please  don't  say  anything  more  about  that, 
Miss  Ryerson,"  John  pleaded.  "I  feel  like  a 
hypocrite  whenever  you  mention  my  services.  If 
you  only  knew  how  very  little  I've  done — scarcely 
anything,  really — and  what  a  pleasure  that  little 
has  been,  you'd  understand  that  all  the  obligation 
is  on  my  part." 

Margaret  shook  her  head  again  as  one  uncon- 
vinced. 

"  I  won't  speak  of  it  if  you  don't  wish  it, "  she  said 
softly,  "but  I  shall  always  remember  it  and  shall 
always  be  very,  very  grateful."  She  turned  away 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  289 

from  him,  clasped  her  hands  over  one  knee  and 
looked  off  across  the  sloping  lawn  and  meadow. 
Then:  "I  fear,  though,  you  don't  believe  very 
strongly  in  our — in  my  gratitude  after — after  my 
rudeness  to  you."  Her  head  was  turned  farther 
away  until  he  could  see  only  one  cheek,  on  which 
the  colour  came  and  went  as  she  spoke. 

"Rudeness!"  he  exclaimed.  "Great  heavens, 
please  don't  say  that !  You  weren't  rude  enough ! 
You " 

"I  behaved  very  childishly,"  she  continued, 
without,  however,  turning  toward  him.'  "I  want 
to  ask  your  pardon  and  I  want  you  to  know  that — 
that  my  behaviour  didn't  mean  that  I  wasn't  grate- 
ful to  you  all  the  time.  We — we're  rather  barba- 
rians down  here,  Mr.  North,  and  have  tempers !" 

"  Miss  Ryerson  !  Margaret!  I  beg  your  pardon, " 
he  caught  himself  up.  "  But  please  don't  talk  about 
asking  my  pardon.  I  ought  to  have  asked  yours 
long  ago  !  I  do  now !  I  behaved  like  a  brute  that 
day.  I  know  I  did.  But — but  won't  you  please 
believe  that  I  didn't  mean  any  disrespect?  You 
must  believe  that !  Won't  you?" 

"  Yes, "  she  answered  instantly.  "  I  didn't  believe 
otherwise.  And  you — and  Phil — were  right  in  not 


290  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

wanting  me  to  ride  Cardinal  back.  I  don't  know 
what  had  gotten  into  me;  I'm  not  always  so  mean 
and  stubborn.  And — and  you — Phil  says  you  rode 
breakneck  down  the  hill  after  me.  You  might 
have  been  killed!"  There  was  a  little  pause, 
during  which  Margaret  continued  to  watch  her 
interlacing  fingers,  and  John,  rather  pale  of  face, 
looked  hungrily  at  the  rounded  cheek  on  which 
the  sun  threw  little  flecks  of  light.  "Thank  you 
for  that,"  she  added  softly.  "And  forgive  me  for 
my  rudeness  at — at  what  was — I  understood  it 
afterward,  you  see — just  a  sort  of  joke. " 

"Joke!"  breathed  John.  He  leaned  forward 
and  laid  one  hand  over  her  fingers.  They  ceased 
their  moving  and  she  turned  toward  him  with  wide, 
startled  eyes.  "Margaret,"  he  said  softly,  "don't 
thank  me  for  anything,  please.  I  don't  deserve  it. 
I  behaved  like  a  brute  !  I  hurt  you  when  you  were 
nervous,  upset,  after  that  danger.  Why,"  he  went 
on  with  a  sudden  drop  of  his  voice  which  trembled 
like  the  hands  imprisoned  under  his  own,  "why, 
rather  than  hurt  you,  Margaret,  I'd — I'd  do  any- 
thing in  the  world !" 

She  turned  her  face  away  with  a  slow  closing  of  her 
eyes,  and  strove  to  draw  her  hands  from  beneath  his. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  291 

"I— I— please " 

"And  don't  forgive  me  because  you  think  it  was 
all  a  joke,  Margaret.  It  wasn't,  not  a  bit  of  it,  dear  ! 
I  kissed  your  hand  because — because  I  couldn't 
help  kissing  the  poor,  bruised  little  thing !  I  said  I 
loved  you  because  it  was  God's  truth,  Margaret ! 
I  do  love  you — then — before  that — now — always  ! 
How  much,  how  dearly,  I  haven't  words  to  say  ! 
I  was  mean,  brutal,  if  you  like,  dear,  but  I  wasn't 
joking." 

He  ended  with  a  little  break  in  his  voice.  His 
hand  slipped  away  from  hers. 

"Now,"  he  added,  pale  and  half  fearful,  "you 
may  forgive  me — if  you  can. " 

For  many  moments  Margaret  sat  motionless,  her 
hands  still  loosely  clasped,  her  face  averted.  John 
waited  anxiously,  breathing  hard,  possessed  with 
an  almost  fierce  exultation  for  that  he  had  pro- 
claimed himself  her  lover  and  that,  whatever 
happened,  no  longer  could  she  consider  him  as 
merely  her  brother's  friend,  an  acquaintance  to 
be  smiled  upon  politely  and  dismissed  from  her 
thoughts.  Whether  she  sent  him  away  or  bade 
him  remain,  he  was  her  lover,  a  factor  in  her  life. 
Whether  she  ever  cared  for  him  or  not,  at  least  she 


292  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

could  never  forget  him;  as  long  as  she  lived  the 
mention  of  his  name  must  summon  recollection. 
All  this  would  be  but  poor  consolation  for  losing  her, 
but  now,  as  he  waited  for  her  to  speak,  he  found 
a  fierce  comfort  in  the  knowledge  that  already  it 
was  beyond  her  power  to  put  him  entirely  from 
her  life. 

When  at  length  she  turned  her  face  to  him  it  was 
paler  than  his  own  and  the  little  smile  that  quivered 
about  the  lips  was  one  of  pain.  Her  eyes  met  his 
bravely,  infinitely  tender.  John  read  his  answer 
and  his  heart  sank ;  but  he  gave  back  her  smile. 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  she  whispered. 

John  nodded  and  looked  away.  He  wanted  to 
say  something,  but  the  right  words  would  not  come ; 
he  could  only  smile.  It  came  to  him  with  a'  shock 
that  he  had  allowed  himself  to  hope  too  much; 
that,  despite  pretense  of  reckoning  with  possible 
•disappointment,  he  had  not,  in  reality,  considered 
it.  The  sunlit  world  suddenly  looked  sickeningly 
blank.  Perhaps  Margaret  read  something  of  all 
this  in  his  expression.  When  she  spoke  again  her 
voice  held  pain  and  regret. 

"There's  so  much  I'd  like  to  say,"  she  murmured. 
"  But — I  don't  know  how.  I  wish — I  want  you  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  293 

believe  that  I  am  sorry,  more  sorry  than  I  can  tell 
you.  And  I  thank  you  very,  very  much  for  the 
honour,  for  it  is  an  honour  that  a  woman  may  be 
proud  of,  Mr.  North.  Oh,  tell  me  this,  please: 
have  I  been  to  blame?" 

"To  blame!     You!" 

"I  mean  have  I  done  anything,  said  anything  to 
make  you  think — that  I  might — care  for  you  ?" 

"Great  heavens,  no !"  John  protested.  "It  has 
been  all  my  fault.  But,  no,  not  a  fault ;  I  won't  call 
it  that.  It  would  have  been  a  fault  not  to  have 
loved  you.  I — I've  made  a  mistake  in  telling  you, 
that  is  all,  Miss  Ryerson.  Please  don't  think  of  it 
any  more;  don't  let  it  trouble  you.  It — it'll  be  all 
right." 

"Will  it?"  she  asked  wistfully.  "I  hope  so,  oh, 
I  do  hope  so  !  I  never  thought — if  I  had  suspected 
for  a  moment,  I  would  have  done  something — gone 
away ' ' 

"It  would  have  been  too  late,"  said  John  gravely. 
"You  see,  the  mischief  was  already  done.  Phil 
had  your  picture  in  his  room ;  I  saw  it  away  last  fall. 
Then  he  talked  of  you  often;  read  little  bits  some- 
times from  your  letters ;  until  I  seemed  to  almost 
know  you.  Then  your  own  letter  came.  Of  course 


294  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

it  was  nothing — but Oh,  I  am  such  an  ass, 

Miss  Ryerson  !  And  then,  when  I  came  and  saw  you 
that  day  there  at  the  station — well,  it  just  clinched 
everything  !  It  was  queer ;  it  didn't  seem  as  though 
I  was  meeting  you  for  the  first  time.  You  were 
just  what  I  had  pictured  you,  only  a  hundred  times 
better,  lovelier,  sweeter  !"  He  paused,  felt  absent- 
mindedly  for  his  pipe  and  placed  it  in  his  mouth. 
Then  he  took  it  out,  put  it  back  in  his  pocket,  and 
went  on  more  lightly. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you  to-day — perhaps  not 
at  all  before  I  went.  But  I  couldn't  bear  to  let  you 
think  I  was  cad  enough  to  do  that  as  a  joke.  Perhaps 
— if  I  had  waited  ?  If  I  had  kept  silent  until  spring 
or  even  summer —  —  ?" 

Margaret  shook  her  head. 

"No;  it  would  have  been  the  same.  I'm  glad 
you  spoke  now  before — before —  Oh,  it  is  better, 
isn't  it,  to  have  the — the  mistake  corrected  now?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  he  answered  without  conviction. 
"Well " 

He  broke  off  and  sat  staring  across  the  fields,  the 
smile  still  on  his  face,  and  for  a  long  minute  there 
was  silence  between  them.  Margaret  observed  him 
with  an  indefinable  expression  in  her  dark  eyes; 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  295 

there  was  regret  there,  and  tenderness,  and  wonder. 

"I  wish —      "  she  began. 

"What?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing."  And  then,  after  another  little  pause, 
"But  maybe  you'd  like  to  know  it.  I  wish — I  cared 
for  you." 

"You  wish  that?"  he  cried  with  a  sudden  note  of 
hope  in  his  voice .  ' '  Then — then —  —  !" 

"No,  no,  no  !  Don't  misunderstand  me,  please ! 
I  do  wish  that ;  yes.  I  would  rather  please  you  than 
give  you  pain.  If  I  did  care  for  you  I  should  be  glad 
— and  proud  to  tell  you  so — and  proud  of  your — 
love.  But  I  don't — not  in  the  way  you  want  me  to." 

"It  is  only  pity,"  he  said  sadly. 

"Yes.     .     .     .     I  don't  know.     ..." 

"But  I  will  wait !  I  could — I  could  try  to  make  you 
care  for  me — that  way!  Margaret!  May  I — try?" 

"Oh,  you  will  mistake  what  I  mean,"  she  cried 
regretfully.  "Listen;  perhaps  I  can  make  you 
understand.  When  you  spoke  of  coming  here  to 
live,  and  when  I  tried  to  discourage  you,  I  was 
hoping  that  you'd  pay  no  heed  to  me  and  that  you 
would  come  in  spite  of  all  I  said.  I  thought  it  would 
be  so  nice  to  have  you  here — coming  to  see  us — and 
all.  And  Phil  likes  you  so  much,  and  mamma,  too. 


296  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

You  are  so  big  and  capable  and — and —  Don't 
you  see,  it  was  just  selfishness?  I  wanted  you 
for  a  friend — some  one  I  could  look  to  for  help  and 
advice  in  my  miserable  little  quandaries.  I — I 
liked  you;  that  is  all." 

"I  see."     Presently: 

"Yes,  I'm  glad  you  told  me  that;  very  glad. 
Please  keep  right  on  liking  me,  if  you  can.  And  I — " 
he  turned,  facing  her  with  a  sudden  rigid  setting  of 
his  jaws  and  a  narrowing  of  his  dark  gray  eyes, 
"I'm  going  to  keep  on  loving  you,  you  know,"  he 
said  almost  fiercely.  "You  can't  help  that.  And 
you  needn't  forbid  me,"  he  added,  as  she  made  a 
gesture  of  dissent.  "It's  beyond  you.  And  I'm 
not  going  to  stop  hoping  until  you're — married  to 
some  one  else.  You  can't  forbid  that,  either  !" 

"But  I  must !  You  mustn't !  Please — please — 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  could  never  care  for  me— 
under  any  circumstances — no  matter  what  hap- 
pened?" 

"I — oh,  how  can  I  tell  what  I  could  do  or  might 
do?"  she  cried.  "Only — I  feel  that  it  is  hopeless- 
useless!" 

"Then — then  there  is  some  one  else,  after  all?" 
he  asked  dully. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  297 

"You  have  been  very  patient  and  kind  to  me," 
she  replied,  "and  I  will  answer  that,  although  you 
have  no  right— 

"I  know,"  he  interrupted.  "I  have  no  right. 
Don't  answer  it !" 

"I  shall;  and — there  is  no  one  else;  no  one  at  all." 

Within  the  house  they  heard  Phillip's  voice  calling 
them. 

"Thank  you,"  said  John.  "And  now,  will  you 
do  me  one  more  favour !  Will  you  promise  that 
should  you  ever  grow  to  care  for  me  you  will  tell 
me?" 

"Tell  you !"  she  repeated  in  surprise.  "But  how 
could  I  do  that?" 

"You  could." 

"But  if  I  ever  did  care,  I  think  you'd  know  it 
without  my  telling  you,"  she  said  with  a  little  smile. 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  might  not.     I  should  be  afraid  to  risk  it  again." 

' '  But  you — you  might  have  grown  to — not  to  care, ' ' 
she  objected.  Again  he  shook  his  head. 

"No.  I  shall  keep  on  caring.  You  are  certain 
that  you  will  never  love  me;  so  the  risk  is  slight. 
Will  you  take  it?  Will  you  promise ?" 

"Hello,  you  lazy  folks !"     Phillip  stood  laughing 


298  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

out  upon  them  from  the  doorway.  "Didn't  you 
hear  me  yelling  like  the  Bull  of — What-do-you- 
call-it?" 

"We  wanted  to  make  you  hunt  us,  Phil,"  answered 
Margaret  lightly.  "Exercise  is  beneficial,  dear." 

"Exercise !  Well,  that  sounds  well  coming  from 
a  person  who  has  been  sitting  on  the  porch  all 
morning,"  Phillip  replied  scathingly.  Margaret 
arose  and  moved  toward  the  door.  John  followed 
•her.  Phillip  observed  them  speculatively. 

"Great  Scott !"  he  told  himself,  "I  believe  John's 
been  making  love  to  Margey  !  Or  else  they've  had 
a  quarrel." 

At  the  doorway  John  laid  his  hand  lightly  on 
Margaret's  arm.  She  stopped  on  the  threshold 
and  turned  to  him. 

"You  promise?"  he  asked  softly. 

She  hesitated  and  dropped  her  eyes.     Then: 

"Yes,"  she  answered. 

He  stood  and  watched  her  lay  aside  her  cape  and 
disappear  into  the  drawing-room.  When  he  turned 
again  toward  Phillip  he  heard  the  beat  of  hoofs  on 
the  drive. 

"Here  comes  Colonel  Brownell,"  said  Phillip. 
The  Colonel  trotted  up  to  the  portico  and 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  299 

bowed  courteously,  holding  out  a  buff-coloured 
envelope. 

"Morning,  Phil;  morning,  Mr.  North.  A  telegram 
for  you,  sir.  Saw  it  in  the  post-office,  sir,  and  took 
the  liberty  of  fetching  it  along  to  you." 

John  thanked  him  and  took  it. 

"You'll  stay  for  dinner,  Colonel?"  asked  Phillip. 

"Thank  you,  Phil;  not  to-day.  I'm  on  my  way 
over  to  Prentiss.  Good-day,  good-day,  sir !"  The 
Colonel  trotted  off,  a  gallant  figure  on  his  little  black 
mare,  and  John  opened  his  message. 

"Don't  dare  to  go  back  without  stopping.  Answer 
when.  GEORGE  CORLISS." 

"Nothing  wrong,  is  there,  John?"  asked  Phillip 
anxiously. 

"No,  nothing  wrong,"  answered  John,  and  he 
dropped  the  telegram  into  his  pocket.  "But  I'm 
sorry  to  say,  Phil,  I'll  have  to  leave  you  in  the 
morning." 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THERE  was  an  early  breakfast  the  next  day,  for 
John's  train  left  Melville  at  a  little  before  eight. 
He  had  begged  that  Margaret  would  not  come  down 
to  see  him  off  and  she  had  answered  with  a  non- 
committal smile.  But  when  he  entered  the  lamp- 
lighted  dining-room  she  was  already  seated  behind 
the  shimmering  urn,  fresh  and  bright.  A  big  fire 
roared  and  crackled  in  the  chimney  place,  for  the 
morning  was  cold  and  lowering,  and  the  scene  was 
so  warm  and  cozy  and  homelike  that  John  was 
sorely  tempted  to  invent  some  desperate  excuse  and 
remain  at  Elaine.  Why  not?  he  asked  himself. 
Was  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  hurry  away  merely 
because  Margaret  had  not  thrown  herself  into  his 
arms  at  the  first  opportunity?  Why  not  stay  and 
go  on  as  though  yesterday's  episode  had  never  been? 
She  liked  him;  she  had  owned  that;  then  why  not 
remain  and  find  what  pleasure  he  could  in  that 
friendship  she  was  ready  to  give  him?  But  no,  he 
could  not  go  on  as  though  nothing  had  happened; 

300 


THE   LAND   OF   JQY  301 

that  was  impossible.  His  presence  would  prove  an 
embarrassment  to  Margaret  every  hour  of  the  day. 
Besides,  yesterday's  occurrence  had  proved  that 
he  could  not  trust  himself.  No ;  it  was  better  to  take 
his  departure  now  before  he  did  anything  to  impair 
Margaret's  regard. 

The  reasons  he  had  given  for  his  sudden  leaving 
were  decidedly  vague;  it  was  necessary  that  he 
should  be  in  Washington  that  evening;  Corliss  had 
telegraphed;  it  was  all  very  important.  Phillip 
damned  Corliss  heartily  and  didn't  hesitate  to 
express  dark  suspicion.  Even  this  morning  found 
him  still  grumbling  and  lamenting.  John  could  not 
flatter  himself  that  he  had  deceived  Margaret.  She 
had  expressed  sincere  regret  upon  the  news  of  his 
intended  departure,  but  she  had  asked  no  questions ; 
she  had  even  reprimanded  Phillip  when  he  had 
overstepped  the  bounds  of  politeness  and  had  shown 
undue  curiosity  as  to  the  contents  of  the  telegram. 

Breakfast  was  a  dismal  affair.  The  outside 
world,  seen  through  the  tall  windows,  was  gray  and 
chilly.  Phillip  was  out  of  temper ;  John  depressed. 
Of  the  three,  Margaret  alone  seemed  possessed  of  her 
usual  good  spirits,  and  talked  brightly  and  cheerfully 
until  John  mentally  accused  her  of  hard-heartedness 


302  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

and  told  himself  bitterly  that  she  was  probably  glad 
to  be  rid  of  him.  He  had  said  good-by  to  Mrs. 
Ryerson  overnight  and  had  been  touched  and  pleased 
at  the  warmth  of  feeling  she  had  shown. 

"You  must  come  back,  Mr.  North,"  she  said.  "I 
want  you  to  feel  that  here  at  Elaine  there's  a  room 
always  ready  and  waiting  for  you,  and  a  welcome 
from  us  all.  I've  adopted  you,  sir,  so  don't — don't 
let  it  be  too  long  before  you  return." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Ryerson,"  he  had  answered  warmly, 
"no  one  could  be  sorrier  to  go  than  I,  and  no  one 
happier  to  come  back." 

"That  is  a  promise,"  she  had  replied,  well  pleased. 
"We  shall  remember  it.  And  you'll  look  after 
Phillip,  won't  you?  You  see,  I'm  not  altogether 
disinterested,  am  I  ?  Good-night  and  good-by, 
Mr.  North;  and — I  suppose  you  don't  care  to  kiss 
old  women,  do  you?" 

"I  love  to  kiss  young  women  who  call  themselves 
old,"  John  had  answered. 

But  Mrs.  Ryerson  was  not  the  only  member  of  the 
household  at  Elaine  who  had  fallen  victim  to  John. 
Uncle  Casper  had  learned  of  his  departure  with 
comical  but  genuine  sorrow,  and  all  through  break- 
fast he  stole  about  the  table  with  gloom  depicted 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  303 

on  his  countenance.  He  passed  every  dish  to  John 
again  and  again,  accompanying  each  with  low- 
voiced  advice  and  entreaties. 

"Better  have  some  mo'  cakes,  Mister  No'th,  sir; 
travelin's  mighty  try  in'  bizness." 

"  'Nother  aig,  sir?  Yo'  got  a  long  journey  ahaid, 
sir !" 

"Please,  sir,  let  me  git  yo'  some  mo'  coffee.  It's 
pow'ful  cold  an'  crampy  out  do's  this  mawnin'  !" 

Will  was  awaiting  them  with  the  buckboard,  in 
which  John's  trunk  and  luggage  were  already  piled. 
Margaret  accompanied  them  to  the  porch,  and  when 
Phillip,  who  for  some  inexplicable  reason  had  come 
out  without  his  hat,  returned  inside,  John  seized 
the  opportunity  to  bid  her  good-by.  The  smile 
she  had  worn  all  during  breakfast  left  her  face  as 
he  took  her  hand. 

"I  wish  I  were  not  driving  you  away,"  she  said 
regretfully. 

"But  you're  not;  I  have  to  go." 

She  shook  her  head.  "I  fear  I'm  as  distrustful 
of  that  telegram  as  Phil  is,"  she  answered  with  a 
smile.  "I'm  sorry.  We  shall  miss  you.  But  you 
will  come  again,  won't  you  ?  You  won't  let  this — 
this  mistake  keep  you  away?" 


304  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Do  you  want  me  to  come  back?"  he  asked  with 
a  note  of  hope  in  his  voice. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  evenly.  "I  always  want  my 
friends  to  come  back." 

"Good-by,"  he  sighed,  dropping  her  hand. 
"Here's  one  friend  who  will  be  mighty  glad  to  get 
back.  And  if—  Well,  good-by,  Miss  Ryerson. 
Remember  your  promise." 

"Yes ;  but  please,  please  don't  think  of  that !" 

"You  mean  don't  hope  anything  from  it?  I  fear 
I  can't  promise  that.  I  was  born  hopeful,  I  guess, 
and  it's  too  late  now  to  reform.  All  ready,  Phil. 
Say  good-by  to  'Uncle  Bob'  for  me,  Miss  Ryerson; 
tell  him  I  hope  his  gout  will  improve." 

Phillip  touched  Cardinal  with  the  lash  and  they 
sped  off  down  the  avenue  into  the  raw,  chill  mist. 
At  the  last  turn  John  looked  back.  Margaret  and 
Uncle  Casper  were  still  standing  under  the  portico, 
indistinct  forms  in  the  gray  morning  gloom. 

John  found  George  Corliss  at  his  office  that  after- 
noon and  went  out  to  his  house  with  him.  He 
remained  in  Washington  until  Sunday  morning 
and  then  went  on  to  New  York.  David's  welcome 
was  hearty,  the  new  automobile  was  tantalizing 
and  mysterious  in  its  actions,  the  holiday  attractions 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  305 

at  the  theatres  were  excellent,  and  the  remaining 
days  of  recess  sped  rapidly. 

Back  at  Elaine  John's  departure  left  a  vacancy 
that  was  apparent  for  many  days.  Phillip  moped 
about  the  house  and  grounds  and  refused  to  be 
comforted  until  "Uncle  Bob"  reminded  him  that 
the  season  for  partridges  ended  with  the  last  day 
of  •  December.  Then  he  picked  up  spirits,  and 
during  the  next  few  days  they  shot  far  and  wide. 
Margaret  went  back  to  her  somewhat  neglected 
household  affairs  cheerfully  enough,  but  found 
to  her  surprise  and  dismay  that,  with  John 
North's  departure,  things  seemed  less  well  worth 
doing. 

She  strove  to  find  a  reason  for  this,  but  failed. 
She  did  not  love  him;  of  that  she  was  certain.  A 
woman,  she  told  herself,  does  not  fall  in  love  with  a 
man  on  six  days'  acquaintance.  She  liked  him, 
yes,  very  much ;  she  was  amazed  to  find  how  much. 
She  liked  him  far  better  than  any  man  she  had 
known.  She  mentally  compared  him  with  these, 
with  Nate  Willis,  with  several  quasi  and  would-be 
suitors  of  the  town,  with  the  wealthy  gentleman 
breeder  who  came  over  regularly  from  Prentiss  every 
week  to  dinner  and  made  open  love  to  her  over  the 


3o6  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

roast;  and  he  emerged  triumphant  from  every 
comparison. 

She  owned  to  herself  that  John  North  was  what 
she  would  have  the  man  she  loved:  strong,  gentle; 
capable,  considerate;  manly,  tender  and  good  to 
look  upon.  He  was  all  these,  and  yet — no,  she  did 
not  care  for  him  in  the  way  he  would  have  her  care 
for  him,  in  the  way  she  must  care  for  the  man  whose 
wife  she  was  to  be.  She  wondered  why.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  in  spite  of  her  denials,  if  he  should  come 

again,  if  she  were  to  meet  him  day  after  day 

She  paused  at  her  work  and  stared  speculatingly 
out  of  the  window.  Couldn't  she,  after  all,  grow 
to  care  for  him  ?  Surely,  it  wouldn't  be  impossible  ? 
Impossible !  Of  a  sudden  it  seemed  to  her  that  it 
would  be  very  easy,  and  she  seized  her  work  again 
and  sewed  hurriedly  as  though  to  change  the  current 
of  her  thoughts.  But  presently  the  needle  was  again 
idle.  She  had  promised — such  a  promise !  What 
had  possessed  her  to  make  it !  Supposing — some 
day — it  should  become  incumbent  upon  her  to  keep 
it !  She  gave  a  little  gasp  of  dismay. 

Suddenly  she  had  become  fearful  of  that  promise  ! 

"Uncle  Bob"  left  them  three  days  after  John  had 
gone  and  went  back  to  Richmond  with  a  hamper 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  307 

of  birds  and  a  surcease  from  gout.  Phillip  was 
preparing  for  his  own  departure,  and  Margaret 
began,  in  anticipation,  to  feel  lonely. 

One  afternoon  she  was  seated  by  the  hall  fire- 
place busy  with  some  of  Phillip's  garments  which 
she  had  rescued  from  his  trunk  in  various  states  of 
disrepair.  Uncle  Casper  had  just  put  a  massive 
oak  log  on  the  andirons,  and  the  silence  of  the 
darkening  hall  was  broken  only  by  the  hissing 
and  sputtering  of  the  flames  as  they  attacked  the 
damp  wood.  The  door  from  the  drawing-room 
opened  suddenly  and  Phillip  strode  in. 

"Margey!" 

Something  in  his  tone  caused  her  to  drop  the 
garment  in  her  hands  and  turn  quickly  toward 
him.  He  came  into  the  radius  of  the  firelight, 
and  she  saw  that  his  face  was  pale  and  troubled. 
Something  white  fluttered  in  his  hand.  She 
knew  then  what  had  happened,  but  she  only  asked 
quietly : 

"What  is  it,  Phil,  dear?" 

"This,"  he  answered.  He  put  the  letter  he 
carried  into  her  hand.  "I  want  you  to  read  it  to 
me,  Margey.  There  is  something  there  I  don't 
understand." 


3o8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

She  held  it  to  the  light.  It  was,  as  she  had 
feared,  an  old  letter  from  George  Corliss. 

"You  haven't  read  it?"  she  asked  with  sudden 
hope. 

"Read  it!"  he  answered.  "No;  it's  a  letter  of 
yours  or  mamma's.  I  went  to  your  room  to  find  a 
pen ;  mamma  said  you  had  some.  It  was  lying  open 
in  the  little  drawer  of  the  desk  and  I  couldn't  help 
seeing  it.  I  saw  some  words:  He  has  learned  you 
want  to  sell  Elaine  !'  What  does  it  mean,  Margey  ? 
Who  is  it  from  ?  I  want  to  know  !" 

For  an  instant  the  idea  of  putting  him  off  presented 
itself  to  her;  if  she  lied  to  him  he  would  believe 
her  and  he  need  not  know  until  summer.  She 
was  silent  a  moment.  Phillip  moved  impatiently, 
stretched  forth  a  hand  toward  the  letter  and  drew 
it  back  again,  staring  down  at  her  with  troubled 
eyes. 

"Margey!     What  is  it?" 

"It's  from  Mr.  Corliss,  Phil,"  she  answered  quietly. 
"You  are  right,  dear;  you  ought  to  know.  Maybe 
we — I  have  done  wrong  in  keeping  it  from  you. 
Get  down  here  beside  me,  Phil,  and  I  will  tell  you 
everything." 

"Everything?  Why — what — Margey ;  it  isn't  true, 


309 

is  it?  We're  not  going  to  sell  Elaine?"  he  cried 
sharply. 

"Come,"  she  answered.  He  sank  to  his  knees 
beside  her  chair  and  she  put  one  arm  over  his  shoul- 
ders, drawing  him  to  her  and  laying  her  head  against 
his.  Phillip  gazed  white-faced  at  the  flames.  "Don't 
say  anything  until  I  have  finished  dear,"  she  begged. 

Then  she  told  him. 

He  let  her  finish  uninterrupted.  Then  he  removed 
her  arm  quietly  and  arose  and  walked  back  into 
the  shadows  toward  the  doorway.  She  remained 
motionless  and  silent,  her  eyes  on  the  sputtering 
flames,  until  a  tear  welled  over  and  she  brushed  it 
away.  Phillip  came  back  and  stood  beside  her, 
looking  not  at  her  but  into  the  fire. 

"You  ought  to  have  told  me,"  he  said  in  low 
voice,  "you  ought  to  have  told  me." 

Margaret  kept  silence. 

"I  had  a  right  to  know,"  he  went  on.  And  then, 
bitterly:  "God!  what  a  fool  you've  made  me  act, 
Margey !  Squandering  money  up  there  while  our 
home  is  being  offered  for  sale  to  any  stranger  that 
can  buy  it !  While  you  and  mamma  were  struggling 
along — starving,  for  all  I  know !" 

"No,  Phil !" 


3io  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"And  selling  things  out  of  the  stable  to  get  enough 
to  pay  my  damned  bills.  I  understand  now  about 
the  harness.  What — what  did  that  money  go  for?" 

"It  was  needed,  Phil." 

"But  what  for?  For  me?  Did  you  send  it  to 
me?"  he  demanded. 

"I — I  don't  remember  now,  dear.  What  does  it 
matter?" 

"Don't  lie,  please,  Margey.  Did  you  send  it  to 
me?" 

"Phil!  .  .  .  Yes,  dear,  I  did.  You  needed 
money.  We  had  none  in  the  house  and 
mamma  could  not  get  any  for  a  week  or  more. 
So — there  was  that  old  harness,  Phil,  and — 
surely,  that  was  better  than  borrowing  from — any 
one?" 

"Mamma  couldn't  get  any  for  a  week!  Then 
—then  it  was  to  pay — you  sold  the  harness  to  get 
money  to  pay  my  poker  debts?" 

"Does  it  matter,  dear?" 

"Matter?  No,  I  reckon  not;  it's  of  a  piece  with 
the  rest  of  it  all."  He  was  silent  a  minute.  Then: 

"Oh,  I  know  you  did  it  out  of  kindness,  Margey;  I 
understand  that;  but — but  you  shouldn't  have 
treated  me  like  a  child  that  has  to  be  pampered 


and  cuddled  !  I  ought  to  have  known ;  it  was  my 
place  to  know !" 

"But  we  thought — and  Mr.  Corliss  agreed  that  it 
would  be  best,  dear,  that " 

"Corliss !  What  right  has  Corliss  coming  into 
our  private  affairs?" 

"He  was  your  father's  best  friend,  dear,"  answered 
Margaret  simply.  "And  he  has  been  a  good  friend 
to  us  all,  Phil.  Don't  you  see,  we  didn't  want  your 
first  year  at  college  spoiled  by  the  knowledge  of  your 
poverty.  Father  would  not  have  wanted  it,  Phil. 
He  hoped  so  much  of  Harvard  for  you.  All  along  I 
have  comforted  myself  when  there  have  been  doubts 
with  the  sure  knowledge  that  father  would  have 
approved,  Phil." 

Phillip  stared  at  the  flames.  Suddenly  he  turned 
almost  fiercely. 

"After  I  lost  at  poker,  Bassett  would  never  play 
again  with  me,"  he  cried.  "Why  was  that?  Did 
he  know?  Did  any  one  up  there  know?" 

"Mr.  North  knew,  Phil.  I — I  wrote  and  asked 
him  to — to  keep  you  away  from  cards.  Phil ! 
What  else  could  I  do  ?  I  didn't  want  you  to  know  !" 

Phillip  turned  back  to  the  flames  abruptly. 

"John  knew!"  he  muttered.     "He  knew!     And 


3i2  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

he  told  Bassett !  Every  one  seems  to  have  known 
save  I  that  I  was  a  beggar  !  They  were  all  laughing 
at  me  behind  my  back,  I  daresay;  at  me,  playing 
cards  and  spending  money  and  joining  clubs  when 
my  folks  had  to  sell  things  to  pay  my  bills !  And 
so  John  knew;  and  he  professed  to  be  my  friend !" 
He  turned  with  clenched  hands.  "He  should  have 
told  me,  the  cheat !  Why  didn't  he  tell  me  instead 
of  every  one  else?" 

"I  made  him  promise  not  to,  Phil.  You're  doing 
him " 

"Was  that  what  a  friend  would  have  done  ?  Seen 
me  the  laughing-stock  of  that  crowd  ?  David  knew, 
and  Chester,  and  Kingsford,  and !" 

Betty  ?     Had  Betty  known  ? 

"I've  done  with  him  now,  though,"  he  went  on 
fiercely.  "He  can  go  hang  for  all  I  care.  Friend? 
A  nice  friend  he  has  proved !"  He  faced  Margaret 
again  and  took  a  step  toward  her.  "Look  here  ! 
I  don't  know  what  took  place  between  you  and 
John ;  and  I  don't  ask.  But  drop" it !  Do  you  hear  ? 
I  won't  have  him  making  love  to  my  sister.  I— 

"Phillip!     Be  still!" 

"I  mean  what  I  say,"  he  went  on  angrily,  his 
eyes  flashing.  "He's  a  cur!  He's " 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  313 

"Phil,  dear,  you're  angry !  Don't  say  anything 
more  now,  please  !  For  my  sake,  Phil !"  She  went 
to  him  and  put  one  arm  around  him  and  kissed  the 
cheek  that  strove  to  draw  away.  "Wait  until 
to-morrow,  Phil,  please.'' 

He  gulped;  then  he  drew  the  hand  from  his 
shoulder  and  turned  away. 

"All  right,  Margey,"  he  answered  quietly.  "I'm 
—I'm  a  little  bit — I  reckon  I'll  go  out  for  awhile." 

He  picked  his  cap  from  the  table  and  passed  out 
onto  the  porch.  Margaret  took  up  the  letter  from 
the  hearth,  sighed,  and  then  in  a  passion  of  rage  tore 
it  into  bits  and  hurled  it  into  the  flames.  Sinking 
into  the  chair,  she  leaned  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sat  there  long,  motionless,  in  the  firelight. 

After  supper  Phillip  sought  her  again.  The 
trouble  was  not  gone  from  his  face,  but  his  first  anger 
was  past. 

"I've  been  thinking  it  over,  Margey,"  he  said 
quietly.  "  We  must  make  the  best  of  it.  I  beg  your 
pardon  for — for  the  way  I  went  on,  for  the  things  I 
said.  It— it'll  be  all  right,  won't  it  ? " 

She  smiled  back  at  him  gladly. 

"  Yes,  Phil,  it  will  be  all  right  if  we  stick  together, 
dear.  And  we  will,  won't  we?" 


3i4  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Always,  Margey." 

"And — and  what  you  said,  Phil,  about  Mr.  North 
wasn't " 

"  We'll  leave  him  out  of  it,  if  you  please,  Margey," 
he  said  coldly. 

Margaret  sighed. 


CHAPTER  XX 

"THE  whole  thing's  a  big  swindle!"  declared 
Chester  Baker  in  disgust.  ' '  Here  I've  been  watching 
them  ever  since  lunch,  and  what  has  happened? 
Not  a  thing  !  There  hasn't  even  been  a  false  step  !" 

He  turned  away  from  the  window  and  punched  a 
cushion  vindictively.  Phillip  laughed  and  took  his 
place  beside  him,  glancing  upward  at  the  source  of 
Chester's  discontent.  In  the  upper  end  of  the  Yard 
a  little  army  of  men  in  brown  jumpers,  armed  with 
pruning-shears  attached  to  bamboo  poles,  were 
swarming  over  the  elms,  waging  a  war  of  exter- 
mination against  the  brown-tail  moths  whose  nests 
dotted  the  tips  of  the  topmost  branches. 

"  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  up  there,"  said  Phillip. 

"There  isn't  the  least  danger,"  answered  Chester. 
"They  never  fall.  They  walk  around  up  there, 
seventy  feet  or  more  from  the  ground,  and  balance 
themselves  on  twigs  and  leaves  and  poke  those  poles 
around  and  have  a  perfectly  elegant  time.  Why, 
they  won't  even  make  believe  to  fall  or  lose  their 


3i6  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

balance  or  anything  !  Well,  I've  simply  wasted  two 
hours,  that's  all." 

"It's  hard  luck,"  grinned  Phillip. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  you  don't  care,"  complained 
Chester.  "  You  have  no  art  in  your  soul.  I'm  dis- 
gusted. For  two  hours  I've  sat  here  and  waited 
patiently  to  see  a  body  come  hurtling  downward. 
But  nary  a  hurtle !  Not  one  corpse  has  dropped 
with  a  dull,  sickening  thud  upon  the  snow-covered 
ground.  Not  a  speck  of  gore  decorates  the  land- 
scape. I  shall  write  to  the  Crimson  about  it. 

"  By  the  way,  Phil,  talking  of  gore ;  there's  a  peach 
of  a  show  at  the  Bowdoin. Square  this  week:  'The 
River  Pirates.'  They  say  it's  simply  lovely.  There's 
one  scene  on  the  East  River  where  a  police  launch 
chases  the  pirates,  with  a  dandy  fight;  the  launch 
blows  up  and  a  big  ocean  liner  comes  along  just  in 
the  nick  of  time  and  rescues  everybody.  All  right 
on  the  stage  !  It's  great !  I'm  going  in  Thursday 
evening;  want  to  come?" 

"No;  I  can't,  Chester." 

"Got  something  on  for  Thursday?  How  about 
Saturday  ?  I  rather  like  Saturday  nights,  anyway." 

"I  can't  afford  it,"  answered  Phillip.  "Fact  is, 
Chester,  I've  got  to  go  awfully  slow  the  rest  of  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  317 

year.  Things  haven't  turned  out  very  well  with  us 
at  home.  When  father  died  I  thought  he  had  left 
plenty  of  money,  but  I've  found  out  just  lately  that 
we  have  practically  nothing.  So,  you  see,  I'm  out 
of  theatres  and  such  things." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,  Phil ;  I  know  how  it  is  to 
be  hard  up.  But,  look  here;  come  along  with  me; 
I'll  treat.  I'd  have  done  it  before,  only  I  imagined 
you  had  plenty  of  tin.  Will  you?" 

"I'd  rather  not,  thanks,"  Phillip  answered. 

"  Oh,  come  on ;  don't  be  so  fussy  !  I'd  let  you  pay 
if  I  was  hard  up  !" 

"  No,  Chester.  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  but  I've 
sworn  off  on  theatres." 

"Oh,  all  right.  But  I  wish  you  would.  By  the 
way,  I  met  John  North  yesterday.  He  said  you'd 
changed  your  room  and  wanted  to  know  if  I  could 
tell  him  where  you  were  living.  But  I  didn't  know 
anything  about  it.  He  said  he'd  been  looking  all 
over  for  you." 

"Yes;  I  gave  up  those  rooms  I  had.  They  were 
rather  high,  and  I  found  I  could  give  them  up  by 
paying  a  month's  rent.  I'm  rooming  on  Dewolf 
Street." 

"Jumping  Moses!     Dewolf  Street!     Man,  that's 


3i8  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

the  limit !  It  must  be  awful,  isn't  it  ?  All  babies 
and  muckers  and  pushcarts  and  things  like  that?" 

"Well,  it  isn't  as  nice  as  some  places,"  answered 
Phillip  evasively,  "  but  it  will  do  all  right.  It's  good 
and  cheap." 

Chester  observed  him  commiseratingly  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  asked  suddenly : 

"  Did  you  bring  Maid  back  ?" 

"  No,  I  left  her.     She's  happier  at  home,  I  reckon." 

"Good  work!  Then  look  here,  Phil;  what's  the 
matter  with  coming  here  ?  I  wish  you  would  !  It 
would  only  be  forty  dollars  for  the  rest  of  the  year. 
Would  that  be  too  much?" 

"No;  that's  what  I  pay  where  I  am;  only — if  I 
really  thought  you  wanted  me  and  weren't  just  tak- 
ing pity  on  me,  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  come." 

"  Pity  be  bio  wed  !  Of -course  I  want  you.  I  wish 
I'd  known  before  that  you  were  going  to  change." 

"But  I  haven't  any  furniture,"  Phillip  objected. 
"I  sold  about  everything." 

"  You  wouldn't  need  anything  except  a  bed,  and 
you  can  get  that  -cheap  any  old  place.  Will  you 
come?" 

"Yes.     You're  mighty  good,  Chester." 

"  I  don't  see  that,"  was  the  answer.     "  Fact  is,  I'm 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  319 

rather  lonesome.  I  thought  when  I  started  out  it 
would  be  nice  to  have  a  place  by  myself.  At  Exeter 
I  had  a  roommate,  but  I  didn't  like  it.  He  always 
wanted  to  cut  up  when  I  had  to  grind,  and  always 
had  to  grind  when  I  wanted  to  have  fun.  We  were 
always  scrapping." 

"  I'll  move  in  on  Monday  if  that's  all  right  for 
you." 

"  Monday  be  hanged !  What's  the  matter  with 
to-day  ?  We  can  find  a  bed  in  ten  minutes  and  get 
them  to  send  it  right  over." 

But  Phillip  held  out  for  Monday.  "It  will  be 
mighty  handy  for  my  meals,"  he  said.  "I  have  to 
walk  a  pretty  good  way  as  it  is  now." 

"Where  are  you  eating ?  North  said  you'd  left 
your  table  at  The  Inn." 

"  Yes,  I  had  to.     I'm  eating  at  Randall." 

Chester  whistled.  "  Well,  you  are  going  the  whole 
hog,  aren't  you  ?  Do  you  like  it  ? " 

"Yes;  it's  just  what  I  want.  I  can  pay  as  little 
or  as  much  as  I  wish  to." 

Chester  grinned.  "I  never  tried  Randall,"  he 
said.  "  I'll  go  to  dinner  with  you  some  time.  Well, 
come  on  and  let's  go  down  to  Holmes  Field  and  watch 
the  hockey.  Your  friend  Kingsford's  playing  cover- 


320  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

point  on  the  freshman  team  and  just  tearing  holes  in 
the  ice.  It's  beautiful  to  see  him.  I  think  he's 
smashed  everything  except  his  left  leg  so  far.  How 
are  you  coming  with  your  exams  ? " 

The  winter  term  was  two  weeks  old  and  the 
mid-years  were  upon  them  in  full  force.  Life  was 
very  serious,  and  the  popular  subjects  of  conversa- 
tion were  seminars  and  flunks.  Phillip  was.  passing 
through  the  ordeal  very  well,  while  Chester,  although 
he  spoke  vaguely  on  every  possible  occasion  of 
having  "a  fighting  chance"  and  of  "never  saying 
die,"  was  forced  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  the 
probabilities  were  strongly  in  favour  of  his  passing 
with  disgustingly  commonplace  success. 

Kingsford  was  not  among  the  freshman  players 
that  afternoon — Chester  said  he  supposed  he  had 
finally  killed  himself — and  after  standing  about  in 
the  snow  for  nearly  an  hour  watching  the  'varsity 
practice,  the  two  walked  back  to  the  Union  and  had 
five  o'clock  tea.  Phillip  found  a  letter  for  him  in 
the  rack  and  with  a  frown  recognized  John's  writing. 
He  slipped  it  into  his  pocket  and  .id  not  open  it  until 
he  was  in  his  room. 

The  most  optimistic  person  could  have  found  but 
one  meritorious  feature  about  that  room;  it  was 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  321 

cheap.  The  house  was  an  ugly,  yellow,  box-like 
erection,  which  -contained  a  never-failing  odour  of 
boiled  cabbage  and  onions.  Phillip's  room  was  on 
the  third  floor,  under  the  eaves,  and  was  just  large 
enough  to  accommodate  the  slim  iron  bedstead  and 
three  other  articles  of  furniture.  His  trunk  stood 
under  the  narrow  dormer  window  and  was  spread 
with  a  saddle  blanket,  making,  so  he  assured  himself, 
an  excellent  imitation  of  a  window-seat.  He  had 
kept  three  of  his  pictures,  and  these,  with  numerous 
photographs  and  his  collection  of  whips  and  spurs 
and  bits,  ornamented  the  sloping  walls.  This 
evening  as  he  climbed  the  dark  stairway,  entered 
the  room  and  lighted  the  gas,  it  looked  meaner  and 
more  squalid  than  ever,  and  the  prospect  of  leaving 
it  pleased  him  greatly.  It  was  very  cold  up  there, 
since  a  somewhat  mythical  furnace  never  sent  its 
heat  higher  than  the  first  floor.  He  lighted  the 
little  gas  radiator  beside  the  washstand  and  pulled  up 
the  chair  until  the  crackling  contrivance  of  stove- 
pipe was  between  his  knees.  Then  he  drew  forth 
John's  letter  and  opened  it. 

"DEAR  PHIL"  (he  read) — "Where  under  the  sun 
have  you  disappeared  to  ?  We  looked  for  you  on 
Sunday  evening,  but  you  didn't  show  up,  and  so  I 


322  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

went  around  to  your  house.  There  the  buxom  land- 
lady professed  complete  ignorance  of  your  where- 
abouts. You  had  gone ;  she  knew  nothing  else,  and 
didn't  seem  to  care.  At  the  post-office  they  coldly 
refused  to  divulge  your  present  address ;  I  think  they 
mistook  me  for  a  bill  collector.  Your  friend  Baker 
could  give  me  no  assistance,  and  so  I  am  sending 
this  to  the  Union  as  a  last  desperate  resort.  If  you 
ever  receive  it,  come  around  to  the  room.  If  you 
don't  appear  before  Saturday  I  shall  place  the  affair 
in  the  hands-of  the  police.  Yours,  JOHN." 

Phillip  sat  for  a  moment  in  thought  after  finishing 
the  note.  Then  he  placed  it  back  in  the  envelope 
and  gravely  and  deliberately  tore  it  across  and  across. 
For  want  of  a  waste-basket  he  dropped  the  pieces 
back  of  the  washstand.  Unlocking  the  trunk,  he 
selected  a  quarter  from  a  small  horde  and  went  to 
dinner. 

John  confidently  expected  Phillip  at  his  rooms  the 
following  Sunday  evening,  and  when  ten  o'clock 
came  without  him  his  perplexity  became  uneasiness. 

"Maybe  the  boy's  sick,  Davy,"  he  suggested. 

David  woke  up  from  his  doze  and  blinked. 

"Sick?  Phil?"  he  asked.  "Oh,  I  don't  believe 
so.  He's  probably  tired  of  us  middle-aged  codgers 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  323 

and  has  found  more  congenial  places  to  spend  his 
Sunday  evenings.  Maybe  he's  in  love.  I  thought 
I  saw  symptoms  of  it  before  recess — an  unnatural 
gaiety,  a  sort  of  feverish  excitement." 

"You  seem  to  know  the  symptoms,"  laughed 
John.  "  One  would  almost  think  you'd  been  in  love 
yourself  at  some  time  ? " 

"Once,"  answered  David,  reaching  for  his  pipe, 
which  had  dropped  to  the  floor,  leaving  a  long  trail 
of  ashes  over  his  waistcoat  and  trousers,  "only  once, 
John.  I  was  twelve.  It  was  desperate  while  it 
lasted.  She  was  my  teacher.  I  discovered  that  if 
I  failed  at  my  lessons  I  was  kept  after  school  and 
that  she  stayed  with  me.  After  that  I  never  knew 
a  thing ;  I  developed  a  sudden  colossal  ignorance  that 
astounded  her  and  alarmed  my  parents.  Day  after 
day  I  sat  in  my  seat  after  the  others  were  dismissed 
and  feasted  my  eyes  on  her  from  behind  my 
geography  or  slate.  Then —  '  he  sighed  deeply — 
"then  the  natural  thing  happened.  Fate  parted  us. 
I  was  taken  out  of  her  room  and  relegated  to  the  next 
class  below,  which  was  presided  over  by  a  young  man 
with  mutton-chop  whiskers  and  red  neckties.  It 
was  an  awful  blow,  John." 

"It  must  have  been,"  John  said  sympathetically. 


324  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Yes.  Of  course,  my  whole  ambition  then  was 
to  get  back  to  her  room  again.  I  became  the  bright- 
est scholar  in  the  class.  I  astonished  every  one. 
The  man  with  the  red  necktie  was  tickled  to  death 
and  went  round  telling  everybody  about  me  and 
taking  great  credit  to  himself.  In  three  months 
they  put  me  back  in  her  class." 

He  paused  and  sighed  disconsolately. 

"But  she  wasn't  there.  She  had  married  a  drug- 
gist two  days  before.  I  never  saw  her  again." 

"And  your  young  life  was  blighted  !" 

"Forever!" 

"Which  being  the  case,"  said  John,  "let's  go  to 
bed.  To-morrow  I  shall  go  in  search  of  Phil." 

"You  might  take  a  dinner  bell  and  go  around 
like  a  town  crier,"  suggested  David,  "yelling  'Boy 
lost !  Boy  lost ! '  " 

But  Monday  was  a  busy  day  for  John  and  it  was 
not  until  three  o'clock  that  he  was  able  to  start  out 
on  his  search.  His  first  step  was  to  look  up  Everett 
Kingsford.  This  occupied  him  the  better  part  of 
an  hour,  but  resulted  in  what  apparently  meant 
success. 

"He's  got  a  room  on  Dewolf  Street,"  said  Everett. 
"He  told  me  the  number,  but  I'm  afraid  I've  for- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  325 

gotten  it.  However,  it  won't  be  very  hard  to  find, 
I  guess.  If  you  like,  I'll  go  along  with  you. 

"I  don't  know  what's  come  over  Phil,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  they  began  their  quest.  "He's  left  our 
table  and  he  hasn't  been  around  to  see  me  once.  I 
met  him  at  the  Union  the  other  day  and  that's  the 
only  time  I've  had  sight  of  him.  He  said  the  reason 
he  left  the  table  was  because  he  couldn't  afford  it." 

"Ah,"  said  John.  He  thought  he  knew  the  solu- 
tion of  Phil's  disappearance.  Somehow,  he  told 
himself,  Phil  had  discovered  the  condition  of  the 
family  finances  and,  animated  by  some  idiotic 
pride,  was  keeping  aloof  from  his  friends.  "Just 
the  sort  of  fool  thing  he  would  do,"  thought  John. 

They  hadn't  far  to  seek.  The  second  house  they 
stopped  at  was  the  yellow  one  with  the  boiled- 
cabbage  aroma.  The  landlady,  a  red-haired  slattern 
who  wiped  the  soapsuds  from  her  hands  and  arms 
as  she  opened  the  door,  informed  them  somewhat 
crossly  that  Mr.  Ryerson  had  roomed  at  her  house, 
but  that  he  had  moved  away  that  very  day. 

"Not  an  hour  ago,"  she  said.  "No;  I  don't  know 
where  he's  gone.  Likely  the  expressman  could  tell 
you.  His  name's  Donovan  and  he  has  a  stand  on 
the  corner  there  beyond.  All  I  know  is  the  gentle- 


326  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

man  took  my  room  until  college  ended  and  now 
he's  gone  and  thrown  it  up."  She  closed  the  door 
behind  them  with  angry  violence. 

"I  can't  honestly  blame  him,"  said  Kingsford 
dryly.  "The  smell  is  enough  to  make  one  throw 
up  anything,  even  a  room." 

The  expressman  was  absent,  and  inquiries  at  the 
corner  grocery  failed  to  enlighten  them  as  to  his 
whereabouts  or  as  to  the  time  of  his  return.  "We'll 
have  to  give  up  for  to-day,  I  guess,"  John  said. 
"You  might  ask  around,  Kingsford.  Surely,  some- 
body must  know  where  he  is  !" 

But  what  search  failed  to  find,  accident  revealed. 
Phillip  could  not  hope  to  avoid  John  forever.  He 
knew  that  sometime  they  must  meet,  and,  incensed 
as  he  was  by  what  he  termed  the  other's  treachery, 
he  dreaded  the  meeting.  It  took  place  that  Monday 
evening. 

In  honour  of  his  installation  in  the  new  quarters, 
Chester  had  persuaded  Phillip  to  take  dinner  with 
him  at  his  boarding-house.  As  it  happened,  John, 
at  the  invitation  of  a  friend,  had  also  been  a  guest 
at  the  same  place.  When  John  came  downstairs 
after  dinner  he  literally  ran  into  Phillip  and  Chester 
at  the  front  door.  Phillip  did  not  see  John  until  the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  327 

latter  had  seized  him  by  the  arm  and  swung  him 
around. 

"Well,  Phil !     You're  really  alive  ?" 

Phillip  moved  away  from  the  other's  grasp  coldly 
and  pretended  not  to  see  the  outstretched  hand. 
John  stared  in  perplexity.  Then  he  stepped  forward 
and  again  laid  a  hand  on  the  younger  man's 
shoulder. 

"Phil,  what  does  this  mean?"  he  asked  sternly. 
The  little  group  of  men  about  the  door  watched 
curiously.  Phillip  found  his  calmness  deserting 
him.  The  blood  seethed  into  his  cheeks  and  his 
eyes  blazed.  He  tore  his  arm  from  John's  hand  and 
swept  it  around  in  something  between  a  blow  and  a 
shove  that  sent  the  other  reeling  against  the  newel 
post. 

"Take  your  hands  off  me,  North !"  he  cried 
angrily,  shrilly.  Chester  sprang  between  and  pushed 
Phillip  toward  the  door.  John  grew  very  white. 
His  perplexity  remained,  but  was  swallowed  up  in 
a  sudden  flood  of  intense  anger  at  the  indignity  put 
upon  him.  He  strode  forward,  his  eyes  darkening, 
his  hands  clenched  at  his  side.  He  had  no  thought 
of  returning  Phillip's  blow,  if  blow  it  was ;  he  wanted 
to  take  the  other  by  the  collar  and  shake  him  until 


328  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

his  teeth  rattled.  He  found  himself  confronted  by 
Chester  Baker,  white  and  determined. 

"You  be  careful,  North !"  he  said  defiantly. 
Phillip  strove  to  push  by  him. 

"This  is  my  affair,  Chester,"  he  cried.  But  John 
paused  and  contemptuously  thrust  his  hands  into 
his  pockets. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  coldly.  "I  mistook 
you  for  a  friend." 

"It  was  the  biggest  mistake  you  could  have 
made,"  replied  Phillip,  his  voice  a-tremble.  Then 
Chester  pushed  him  before  him  out  the  door. 

The  episode  caused  talk.  A  half-dozen  men  had 
witnessed  it,  and  by  the  next  afternoon  various 
accounts  of  it  had  reached  John's  friends  and 
acquaintances,  and  it  was  being  generally  discussed, 
for  John  was  a  public  character  whose  affairs  inter- 
ested the  entire  university.  It  became  known  that 
he  had  been  Phillip's  guest  during  the  holidays,  and 
various  and  wonderful  were  the  theories  evolved  to 
account  for  the  quarrel.  Phillip  gained  not  a  little 
notoriety;  he  was  pointed  out  as  "the  fellow  who 
slugged  John  North" ;  but  beyond  his  small  circle 
of  personal  friends,  who,  despite  that  he  had  vouch- 
safed to  them  no  explanation  of  the  affair,  stood  by 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  329 

him  loyally,  he  was  looked  upon  with  disfavour 
and  voted  "darned  fresh." 

John  spoke  of  the  affair  to  none  save  David. 
The  latter  heard  of  it  with  mingled  dismay  and 
delight,  and  when  John  had  finished  surprised  him 
by  the  decision  he  rendered. 

"Don't  take  any  more  notice  of  him,"  he  said. 
"I  don't  know  any  more  than  you  what  the  boy's  got 
against  you,  but  you  may  depend  that  it's  something 
he  considers  serious.  Phil's  honest,  John,  whatever 
else  he  is.  I  suppose  it's  all  some  silly  misunder- 
standing, but  it's  quite  evident  that  Phil  takes  it 
very  much  in  earnest.  I  suppose  nothing  happened 
down  in  Virginia  that  he  could  have  taken  exception 
to  ?  Nothing  about  his  sister,  eh  ?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded  John 
angrily. 

"I  mean,"  answered  David  undisturbedly,  "that 
there  was  nothing — look  here,  to  be  plain,  did  you 
get  into  any  flirtation  down  there?  Did  you  do 
anything  that  Phil  might  construe  into  a  slight 
against  his  sister?" 

"If  you  don't  shut  up  I'll  smash  you,"  John 
threatened. 

"By  which  I  presume  you  mean  me  to  understand 


330  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

that  there  was  nothing  of  the  sort?  Well, 
the  next  question  is,  does  Phil  think  there  was 
anything?" 

John's  wrath  gave  way  to  thoughtfulness.  Finally 
he  said: 

"I  can't  see  how  he  could,  Davy,  honestly.  There 
was  not  a  thing  -  Look  here,  Davy,  I  asked  his 
sister  to  marry  me  and  she  refused.  There  was 
nothing  wrong  with  that,  was  there?" 

"Nothing,  I  should  say,  except  her  decision," 
answered  David.  "I'm  sorry  she  turned  you  down, 
old  man,  if  you  really  care  for  the  girl.  But,  to  tell 
the  truth,  it  seems  to  me  you're  rather  fortunate  not 
to  marry  into  such  a  fire-eating  family.  I  suppose 
the  girl  couldn't  have  told  Phil  any  yarns  that  — 


"David!" 

"Oh,  well,  I  don't  know  her,  of  course.  Women 
are  damned  strange,  though,  just  the  same.  I've 
got  two  sisters  of  my  own,  if  you  remember."  He 
smoked  in  silence  awhile  and  John  sat  scowling 
crossly  at  him  through  the  smoke.  Then,  "Well,  I 
give  it  up,  Johnnie.  Let  him  alone;  maybe  he'll 
have  the  grace  to  apologize  and  explain  things." 

"He  may  apologize  until  he's  blue  in  the  face," 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  331 

said  John  wrathfully,  "for  all  I  care.  But  I  would 
like  to  know  what  in  thunder  it  all  means  !" 

David  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"Children  are  contrary  and  exasperating  things," 
he  said,  "and  the  guardian's  lot  is  not  all  roses." 


CHAPTER   XXI 

"WHAT  has  become  of  that  nice  young  Mr.  Ryerson, 
Everett?"  asked  Mrs.  Kingsford.  "We  haven't 
seen  him  since — why,  not  since  before  Christmas, 
have  we,  Betty?" 

"No,  mother,"  answered  Betty  calmly. 

"Phillip  Ryerson  has  taken  the  veil,"  replied 
Everett  gravely. 

"Taken  the  veil!"  echoed  his  mother.  "What 
do  you  mean  ?  Whose  veil,  Everett  ?" 

"I  mean  he  has  withdrawn  from  the  world  of 
society  and  is  hiding  himself  in  the  monastic  seclusion 
of  Thayer  Hall.  Really,  I  don't  quite  know  what's 
up  with  Phil,  but  he's  frightfully  down  on  his  luck 
for  some  old  reason,  and  I  never  see  him  more  than 
once  in  a  coon's  age.  I  think,  though,  that  his  folks 
have  lost  their  money,  or  something  like  that  has 
happened.  He  left  our  table  right  after  the  holidays 
and  went  to  eating  at  Randall.  And  he  gave  up  a 
couple  of  very  jolly  rooms  he  had  on  Mount  Auburn 
Street  and  went  to  a  horrible  cheap  dive  down  near 

332 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  333 

the  river.  Since  then,  however,  he's  gone  in  with  a 
fellow  named  Baker  who  has  a  joint  in  Thayer. 
I've  tried  to  get  him  to  come  here  to  dinner  with  me 
a  couple  of  times,  but  he  seems  soured  on  polite 
society.  I  daresay  Betty  has  thrown  him  over." 

"Who's  that  you're  speaking  of?"  asked  Mr. 
Kingsford,  looking  up  from  his  Transcript.  "That 
young  Ryerson?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  Everett  replied. 

"Well,  if  his  people  have  lost  their  money  I  guess 
he  thinks  society  is  too  expensive  for  him.  I'm  glad 
he's  got  so  much  sense.  I  always  thought  he 
seemed  level-headed.  I  wish  you  were  as  much  so, 
sir."  Everett  grinned. 

"But,"  continued  Mr.  Kingsford,  glancing  up  and 
down  the  market  columns,  "it  won't  do  for  him  to 
think  we  are  snobbish.  And  besides,  I  won't  have 
him  breaking  Betty's  heart.  You  tell  him  from 
me  that  I  want  him  to  come  in  to  dinner  next 
week." 

"You're  very  nice,  papa,"  said  Betty  sweetly,  "but 
my  heart's  not  nearly  so  fragile  as  you  seem  to 
think." 

"Glad  to  hear  it ;  must  be  like  your  mother's.  She 
broke  mine  fifty  times  before  she  finally  consented 


334  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

to  marry  me,  and  I  don't  believe  she  ever  sustained 
a  fracture  herself." 

"Poor  old  dad,"  murmured  Betty. 

"Betty,  you're  getting  into  a  most  annoying  habit 
of  referring  to  me  as  aged,"  said  Mr.  Kingsford, 
scowling  blackly.  "I  want  you  to  understand, 
miss,  that  I  am  only  six  years  older  than  your  mother 
and  she's  the  youngest  woman  in  Boston." 

Mrs.  Kingsford  smiled  and  blushed,  as  she  always 
did  at  her  husband's  compliments,  and  arose  in 
response  to  the  appearance  at  the  library  door  of 
the  maid  with  wraps. 

"Come,  Betty,  the  carriage  is  here,"  she  said. 
Everett  accompanied  them  downstairs  and  saw 
them  into  the  brougham.  When  he  returned  to  the 
library  he  found  his  father  had  thrown  aside  the 
paper  and  was  thoughtfully  watching  the  smoke 
curl  up  from  the  tip  of  his  cigar. 

"Think  that's  right  about  young  Ryerson,  do 
you,  Everett?" 

"About  his  folks  losing  money?  Yes,  sir;  I 
gathered  as  much  from  what  he  has  told  me." 

"Sorry  to  hear  it.  He  seems  a  fine  sort  of  a  boy. 
Do  you  like  him?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  like  Phil,"  answered  Everett  decisively. 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  335 

"All  right.  Why  is  it  you  see  so  little  of  him 
then?" 

"Well,  we  don't  meet  very  often,  sir,  and  he  seems 
rather  stand-offish ;  doesn't  appear  to  want  to  chum." 

"Of  course  he  doesn't.  He's  a  Southerner.-  I've 
met  a  good  many  of  them.  They're  as  proud  as 
turkey  cocks.  If  his  people  have  lost  their  money, 
why,  he  has  got  it  into  his  head,  I  daresay,  that  you 
don't  care  to  know  him.  Now  don't  let  him  think 
that,  Everett.  If  there's  anything  on  God's  green 
earth  I  hate  it's  that  sort  of  thing.  Don't  be  a 
money-snob,  my  boy." 

"I  don't  think  I  am,  sir.  It  hadn't  occurred  to 
me  that  Phil  could  imagine  anything  of  the  sort." 

"I  don't  say  that  you  are,  Everett;  but  don't  let 
it  look  that  way.  Now  you  look  him  up  when  you 
go  back  Monday  and  don't  let  him  put  you  off; 
give  him  to  understand  that  it  doesn't  make  a 
continental  bit  of  difference  to  you  whether  there's 
been  an  auction  at  the  old  homestead  or  not.  Get 
him  in  here  to  dinner  with  you.  If  he's  down  on  his 
luck,  cheer  him  up.  Take  him  into  Parker's  some 
evening  and  put  some  cocktails  where  they'll  do 
the  most  good ;  you  may  charge  it  to  me." 

"All  right,  sir.     But  I  don't  believe  he'd  go  to 


336  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

dinner,  sir ;  he's  awfully  shy  on  letting  you  do  things 
for  him." 

"Is,  eh?  A  regular  dyed-in-the-wool  Southerner, 
I  guess.  Well,  you  do  the  best  you  can,  Everett. 
There  have  been  four  generations  of  Kingsfords  at 
Harvard  so  far,  and  they've  all  acted  like  gentlemen. 
You  look  sharp,  sir,  and  see  that  the  rule  isn't 
broken.  I'll  forgive  you  anything  and  pay  your 
bills  like  a  little  tin  bank,  just  so  long  as  you  don't 
forget  what  your  last  name  is.  If  you  ever  do  that, 
look  out  for  squalls,  my  son !" 

The  result  of  this  conversation,  which  took  place 
the  first  week  in  February,  was  that  Everett  became 
a  frequent  visitor  at  the  corner  room  in  Thayer. 
Phillip  begged  off  from  Everett's  invitation  to  dinner, 
not  because,  now  that  he  had  discovered  that  he 
was  still  wanted,  he  did  not  wish  to  go,  but  because 
he  had  sold  his  very  expensive  dress  suit  for  half  what 
he  had  paid  for  it,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  bor- 
row one.  He  didn't  explain  this  to  Everett,  how- 
ever, but  pleaded  study,  an  excuse  which  his  friend 
accepted  politely  but  did  not  believe  in.  Perhaps 
Everett  suspected  the  true  reason,  for  a  few  days 
later  he  asked  Phillip  to  come  to  his  rooms  on  a 
certain  Thursday  afternoon. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  337 

"My  mother  and  Betty  and  Miss  Wayland  are 
coming  out  to  tea,"  he  explained,  "and  going  to 
vespers  afterward.  I'll  let  you  off  on  vespers  if  you 
insist,  but  I  would  like  you  to  help  me  hand  the 
sandwiches  around.  Porter  is  trying  for  the  nine 
and  has  got  to  be  in  the  cage  that  afternoon  with  the 
rest  of  the  animals."  (Porter  was  Everett's  room- 
mate.) "Say  you'll  come,  like  a  good  chap." 

"I'll  be  mighty  glad  to,"  answered  Phillip.  ''Only 
—you  don't  reckon  your — mother  thinks  I'm 
impolite  for  not  accepting  that  invitation  to  dinner  ?" 

"Not  a  bit.  I  explained  that  you  were  awfully 
busy  grinding.  She's  been  holding  you  up  to  me 
ever  since  as  a  model  of  studiousness.  If  I  don't 
think  to  speak  of  it  again,  be  there  about  three, 
will  you?" 

That  Thursday  was  almost  a  week  distant.  The 
intervening  days  went  slower  than  any  Phillip  had 
ever  known.  He  had  his  best  suit  of  clothes  pressed 
and  bought  a  new  tie.  The  latter  was  broad  and 
black,  with  half -moons  of  purple  and  green.  Chester 
pretended  great  concern. 

"Tell  me  the  truth,  Phil,"  he  begged.  "You're 
going  to  get  married,  aren't  you?  You're  not? 
Then  you're  asked  to  dinner  with  Prexy.  I  knew 


338  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

it  was  something  momentous — out  of  the  ordinary ! 
Couldn't  you  get  me  in  somehow?  My  table  man- 
ners, really,  aren't  half  bad,  if  we  don't  have  soup. 
I  always  spill  my  soup.  Anyhow,  I  could  say  I 
didn't  care  for  soup;  lots  of  folks  don't,  you  know. 
Of  course,  I  haven't  any  tie  that  comes  anywhere 
near  touching  that  one ;  but  I've  got  a  Punjaub  thing, 
all  red  and  yellow  and  green,  that's  very,  very  effec- 
tive by  gaslight.  You  will  take  me,  won't  you, 
Phil?" 

Meanwhile  something  occurred  that  disturbed 
Phillip's  self-satisfaction.  Crossing  the  Yard  one 
morning,  he  encountered  David  lounging  along, 
swinging  a  note-book  and  whistling  very  much  out 
of  tune.  When  he  saw  Phillip  he  hailed  him  and, 
crossing  the  grass  with  gigantic  strides  and  leaps, 
shook  hands. 

"Haven't  seen  you  for  a  good  while,  Phil,"  he  said. 

"No;  I — I've  been  rather  busy  since  I  got  back," 
Phillip  answered  confusedly. 

"Have  you,  boy  ?  Look  here,  Phil,  it's  none  of  my 
business — in  a  way— but  I  want  to  tell  you  that 
you're  making  a  big  mistake.  John  has  told  me,  you 
know.  Now,  whatever  it  is  you've  got  against  him, 
I'll  bet  you  dollars  to  pants  buttons  there's  nothing 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  339 

in  it.  He  swears  he  doesn't  know  what  it  is,  and 
John  doesn't  lie,  Phil.  He  doesn't  know  I'm  saying 
this;  he'd  try  to  break  my  neck  if  he  found  it  out. 
But  you've  hurt  him  quite  a  bit.  If  you're  in  the 
right  of  it — why,  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said. 
But  if  you're  making  a  mistake  I  think  you'd  better 
own  up." 

"I  don't  think  there's  any  mistake,"  Phillip 
answered  gravely. 

"Think  be  damned  !  You've  got  to  know,  Phil ! 
If  you're  in  the  wrong  it's  your  duty,  my  boy,  to  say 
so,  and  if  he's  in  the  wrong  it's  equally  your  duty 
to  tell  him  where.  Now  you  think  it  over,  will  you  ? 
And,  look  here,  Phil,  supposing  you  come  around 
some  Sunday  night — to-morrow,  for  instance — just  to 
see  me  ?  You've  got  nothing  against  me,  have  you  ? 
Well,  you  come  and  call  on  me,  then;  it's  none  of 
John's  business  if  you  do,  you  know.  Anyhow, 
think  it  over  well,  will  you  ? " 

Phillip  could  do  no  less  than  promise. 

But  what  David  had  said  impressed  him.  He 
had  hitherto  believed  himself  altogether  in  the  right. 
Now  he  began  to  wonder  whether,  after  all,  he  did 
not  owe  it  to  John  to  explain  what  he  was  charged 
with.  Not  that  there  could  be  any  mistake.  He 


340  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

had  spoken  with  Guy  Bassett  and  Bassett  had 
readily  acknowledged  that  John  had  seen  him  and 
asked  him  to  refrain  from  playing  poker  with  Phillip. 
But,  declared  Bassett,  it  had  ended  there;  he  had 
not  mentioned  the  matter  to  any  one  else.  Phillip 
was  glad  of  that,  but  it  did  not,  he  told  himself, 
mitigate  John's  offense.  John  had  treated  him  like 
an  irresponsible  child — had  deceived  him,  had  made 
him  an  object  of  amusement,  perhaps  ridicule,  to 
Bassett  at  least ;  probably  to  David  as  well.  Phillip 
could  not  forgive  him  that. 

It  was  quite  conceivable  that  John  did  not  guess 
what  he  held  against  him ;  he  probably  did  not  for  a 
moment  suspect  that  Phillip  had  found  him  out. 
And  so  perhaps  David  was  right  and  it  was  Phillip's 
duty  to  acquaint  John  with  the  cause  of  the  estrange- 
ment. But  he  would  not  call  on  David.  He  would 
write  John  a  note.  Yet,  when  it  came  down  to 
doing  so,  when  the  paper  was  before  him  and  the 
pen  in  his  hand,  the  task  proved  too  difficult;  he 
was  not  a  ready  writer,  and  after  several  attempts 
he  put  it  off.  The  result  was  that  the  note  was 
never  written. 

On  Thursday  Phillip  went  to  Everett's  room  in 
Beck  with  his  heart  thumping  madly  under  his  new 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  341 

Ascot  tie.  The  thought  of  meeting  Betty  again  was 
as  delicious  as  it  was  disquieting.  How  could  he 
explain  his  apparent  indifference  to  her  existence 
during  the  past  six  weeks  ?  Would  she  forgive  him  ? 
He  was  forced  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  given  her 
excellent  reasons  for  not  doing  so. 

When  he  reached  Everett's  door  sounds  from 
within  told  him  that  the  visitors  had  already  arrived. 
When  he  entered  he  found  them  roaming  about  the 
study,  examining  the  pictures,  reading  the  shingles, 
peeping  curiously  among  the  litter  on  the  mantel, 
and  all  the  while  deftly  preening  themselves,  smooth- 
ing their  dresses,  touching  their  hair  with  little 
surreptitious  glances  into  mirrors,  and  asking  many 
questions  and  paying  little  heed  to  answers.  It  is 
scarcely  fair,  perhaps,  to  associate  Mrs.  Kingsford 
with  the  mild  hurly-burly.  She  did  her  sightseeing 
very  quietly.  Phillip  shook  hands  with  her  first  and 
made  his  apologies  for  declining  her  invitation  to 
dinner.  He  found  her  very  gracious  and  forgiving. 

"No,  no,  don't  apologize,"  she  replied.  "Everett 
has  explained.  Study  before  social  diversions, 
Mr.  Ryerson,  is,  I  am  sure,  a  very  good  rule.  But 
you  will  come  in  to  see  us  soon,  won't  you?  We 
shall  be  happy  to  see  you  any  time,  and — we  dine 


342  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

at  half  past  seven.  Don't  wait  for  Everett  to 
invite  you,  but  come  whenever  you  can." 

Phillip  muttered  his  thanks,  feeling  rather  ashamed 
of  himself  for  allowing  her  to  credit  him  with  such 
ideal  devotion  to  study,  and  turned  to  the  two  girls. 
Betty  was  smiling  across  at  him  brightly,  but  it 
was  a  smile  that  he  didn't  altogether  like. 

"I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said  as  she  gave  him 
her  hand.  "I've  always  had  a  devouring  curiosity 
to  look  upon  a  real,  genuine  grind." 

"Grind?"  he  asked  uncomfortably. 

"Yes;  one  who  burns  the  midnight  oil,  and  wears 
wet  towels  around  his  head,  and  heroically  resists  all 
such  attractions  as  dinners  in  order  that  he  may 
stay  locked  up  in  his  room  studying  hard.  You're 
very  interesting,  Mr.  Ryerson." 

Phillip  smiled  unenjoyably  and  was  glad  for  once 
to  turn  away  from  Betty.  He  shook  hands  with 
Miss  Wayland,  a  pronounced  and  rather  regal 
blonde,  and  exchanged  a  few  words  of  banter  with 
Everett.  Then  he  glanced  irresolutely  toward 
Mrs.  Kingsford  and  from  her  to  Betty.  Betty  had 
perched  herself  on  the  window-seat  and  was  tempt- 
ingly accessible.  Phillip  took  his  courage  in  hand 
and  dropped  down  beside  her. 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  343 

"Betty!" 

Betty's  eyebrows  arched  in  surprise 

"What  did  you  call  me  ?" 

"Betty,"  he  faltered. 

"Don't  you  think  it  would  be  nicer  to  say  Miss 
Kingsford?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  he  replied  doggedly. 

"I  do;  much  nicer."     Betty  hummed  a  tune. 

"Betty,"  he  pleaded,  "don't  be  mean.  It— I— I 
want  to  explain,  please." 

"Explain  what?"  asked  Betty,  with  a  great  show 
of  interest. 

"Why  I  haven't  been  to  see  you." 

"Why,  you  were  studying  very  hard,  of  course." 

"I  wasn't.     I  mean,  that  isn't  the  reason." 

"Oh  !"  Betty's  face  fell.  "Now  you've  gone  and 
spoiled  it  all !  You're  not  a  grind,  after  all  ?  And 
to  think  of  all  the  sympathy  and  admiration 
I've  wasted  on  you !  Really,  you're  very  dis- 
appointing !" 

"Betty,  please  be  serious,"  Phillip  begged. 

"Serious?  Very  well,  I'll  try."  She  drew  the 
corners  of  her  mouth  down  and  frowned  intensely. 
Phillip  sighed.  "How  long  must  I  stay  like  this?" 
she  asked.  "It's — it's  awfully  puckery  !" 


344  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"I — I  got  your  picture,"  said  Phillip  softly. 
"Thank  you,  Betty." 

"Picture?"  Betty's  frown  increased.  "Picture? 
Oh,  yes,  of  course.  Gracious !  I'd  forgotten," 
she  fibbed.  "I  sent  away  so  many  of  those  old 
things  Christmas  !  Did  you  like  it  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered  miserably.  Then,  "Who  did 
— how  many  did  you  give  away?"  he  asked. 

"How  many  ?  Oh,  heaps ;  I  can't  begin  to  remem- 
ber. I  always  send  photographs  Christmas;  it's 
such  a  nice,  easy  way  to  give  presents,  isn't  it?  I 
always  think  they're  lots  nicer  and  more  intimate 
than  Christmas  cards." 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  he  muttered  doubtfully. 

"What,  that  they're  nicer  than  cards?  Oh,  well, 
every  one  to  his  taste.  Next  time  I'll  send  you  a 
card:  one  with  a  lovely  little  landscape  all  frosted 
over  with  that  glittery  stuff,  and  a  nice  little  verse  in 
the  corner.  I'm  glad  you  told  me;  I  like  to  know 
what  people  want,  don't  you?" 

"I  didn't  mean  that;  you  know  I  didn't.  Don't 
you  want  me  to  tell  you  why  I — why  I  haven't  been 
in  to  see  you?" 

"No."  Betty  shook  her  head  smilingly.  "No, 
not  the  least  bit  in  the  world,  Mr.  Ryerson." 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  345 

"It  used  to  be  Phillip,"  he  accused,  "before  I 
went  away." 

"You  don't  mean — !"  She  paused  in  simulated 
dismay  and  horror — "you  don't  mean  that  I  called 
you  that !" 

"You  know  you  did  !" 

"Not  really?  But  there,  I  daresay  I  did.  I'm 
always  doing  something  awful  unladylike  and 
irreverent!  But  you'll  pardon  me,  won't  you?" 

Phillip  groaned  and  jumped  up  in  exasperation. 
Betty's  eyes  grew  large  with  polite  surprise.  "You're 
not  well?"  she  exclaimed  feelingly.  Phillip  looked 
down  at  her  wrathfully. 

"I'm  afraid  you're  studying  too  hard,"  she  said, 
shaking  her  head  dubiously.  "You  mustn't  overdo 
it,  you  know." 

Thus  ended  a  most  unsatisfactory  conversation, 
for  Everett  summoned  Betty  to  make  tea  and  Mrs. 
Kingsford  took  possession  of  Phillip.  She  found 
him  in  a  most  gloomy  state  of  mind,  and  set  herself 
to  cheering  him  up  with  such  good  results  that  when 
they  began  the  consumption  of  sandwiches  and  tea 
and  cakes  he  was  chatting  quite  volubly  of  his 
vacation  and  telling  about  Virginia.  Betty,  sitting 
across  the  study  with  Miss  Wayland  and  Everett, 


346  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

observed  Phillip's  cheerfulness  and  frowned.  Once, 
during  a  lull  in  the  conversation  beside  her,  she 
heard  Phillip  exclaim  warmly: 

"Her  name's  Ruby,  Mrs.  Kingsford,  and  she's  as 
pretty  as  a  picture  !  She's  rather  light,  but  has 
a  mighty  good  colour ;  and  she's  one  of  the  graceful, 
trim  sort,  you  know,  with  little  bits  of  feet  and  slender 
ankles.  I  wish  you  could  see  her  when- 
Then  Everett  spoke  and  the  rest  was  lost  to  her; 
strain  her  ears  as  she  might,  she  could  not  distinguish 
Phillip's  words;  but  she  saw  with  keen  displeasure 
that  his  eyes  were  sparkling  with  enthusiasm. 
Unappeased  curiosity  marred  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon for  Betty.  She  wondered  who  Ruby  could  be. 
Some  girl  in  Virginia,  she  supposed;  and  yet 
Virginians  weren't  usually  light,  even  if  they  were 
"of  the  graceful,  trim  sort."  As  for  those  "little 
bits  of  feet  and  slender  ankles—  Betty  bit  her  lip 
and,  thrusting  her  foot  out  from  under  her  skirts, 
viewed  it  with  dissatisfaction.  The  ankle  was  slen- 
der enough,  she  thought,  but  the  heavy,  broad-soled 
patent-leather  Oxford  made  her  foot  look  simply 
enormous.  Not  that  it  mattered,  of  course,  only— 
"Slender  ankles"  indeed !  She  wished— oh,  she 
did  wish  she  had  that  photograph  she  had  sent  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  347 

Phillip  !  She  would  like  to  tear  it  to  bits  and  throw 
it  in  his  face? 

Phillip  walked  to  the  chapel  beside  Mrs.  Kingsford. 
He  was  resolved  to  prove  to  Betty  that  he  was 
indifferent  to  her  treatment ;  that  if  she  thought  she 
could  amuse  herself  with  impunity  at  his  expense 
she  was  greatly,  oh,  very  greatly,  mistaken.  Everett 
piloted  them  to  the  front  row  of  the  balcony,  and 
when  they  were  seated  Phillip  found  himself  between 
Mrs.  Kingsford  and  Betty.  He  confined  his  atten- 
tions to  the  former,  indicating  the  college  celebrities 
as  they  entered,  and  telling  her  of  Guy  Bassett  and 
how  he  attended  chapel  every  morning  because  it 
gave  him  just  the  right  length  of  walk.  Mrs. 
Kingsford  shook  her  head  over  that,  but  smiled 
nevertheless. 

"But  he  doesn't  really  mean  it,  you  know," 
Phillip  hastened  to  explain.  "That's  just  his  way 
of  talking." 

Once  he  found  the  hymn  and  proffered  the  book 
to  Betty. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  coldly;"!  never  sing." 

During  service  she  sat  very  straight  and  still, 
looking  calmly  across  the  warm,  cheerful  little 
chapel,  while  Phillip,  leaning  back  with  folded  arms, 


348  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

viewed  her  surreptitiously  and  found  his  resent- 
ment melting  under  a  glow  of  feeling  that  set  his 
heart  aleap.  When,  presently,  a  little  freckled- 
faced  cherub  in  the  choir-loft  arose  and  filled  the 
chapel  with  wondrous  melody,  Phillip's  heart  not 
only  leaped,  but  it  seemed  to  swell  until  it  pained 
him.  He  leaned  toward  Betty. 

"Betty!"  he  whispered  intensely,  "Betty,  I  love 
you,  dear !" 

She  turned  from  watching  the  angel-voiced  singer 
and  frowned  upon  him  annoyedly. 

"Please  be  still,"  she  said  impatiently. 

Phillip's  heart  ceased  leaping.  It  subsided  with 
something  that  was  very  much  like  what  Chester 
would  have  called  a  dull  thud.  He  retired  hurt  and 
angry  and  made  solemn  vows  never  again  to  risk 
rebuff.  Afterward  they  crossed  the  Yard  in  a  tiny 
snow-squall  to  the  square  and  stood  for  a  minute 
under  the  shelter  before  the  waiting-room.  Betty 
turned  to  Phillip  with  a  little  flush  in  each  cheek  and 
her  eyes  asparkle  with  anger. 

"I  want  you  to  give  me  back  that  photograph," 
she  said  in  a  low  voice.  Phillip's  own  cheeks 
reddened. 

"Certainly,"  he  answered.     "I  have  no  wish  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  349 

keep  it.  There  are  too  many  like  it  in — in  circula- 
tion." 

Betty  glared,  almost  speechless. 

"I  shall  be  at  home  to-morrow  afternoon,"  she 
said  finally  with  superb  dignity.  "If  your  studies  will 
allow,  please  bring  it  then." 

Phillip  bowed.  The  car  clanged  its  way  -up  to 
the  waiting-room  and  they  scuttled  for  it.  Phillip 
politely  offered  to  help  Betty  up  the  steps.  Betty 
looked  the  other  way  and  leaped  up  them  unassisted. 
Phillip  caught  a  bewildering  gleam  of  white  skirts 
and  patent-leather  Oxfords.  Then  he  and  Everett 
were  left  standing  bareheaded  in  the  falling  flakes. 

"Subway-to-Park-Street,"  shouted  the  starter 
hoarsely. 

Everett  dragged  Phillip  from  the  path  of  a  trund- 
ling car.  "Come  on,"  he  said.  "Let's  go  and  get 
some  red-hot  chocolate.  It  will  warm  us  up." 

"Yes,"  echoed  Phillip  vaguely,  "it  will  warm  us 
up."  He  followed  the  other  through  the  crowd, 
dazed,  miserable,  and  only  came  to  a  partial  recovery 
of  his  faculties  when  he  had  fallen  over  a  suit  case 
and  sent  a  harmless  gentleman  in  a  clerical  garb 
staggering  to  the  wall. 

"Mamma,"  asked  Betty  that  evening,  when  they 


350  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

were  alone,  "what  were  you  and  Mr.  Ryerson  talking 
about  so  eagerly  this  afternoon?" 

"Talking  about?"  repeated  her  mother.  "Oh, 
he  was  telling  me  about  his  home  in  Virginia,  dear." 

"Was  that  it?"  asked  Betty,  stifling  a  yawn.  "I 
didn't  know.  I  heard  him  saying  something  about 
somebody's  ankles — somebody  named  Ruby — and 
it  didn't  sound  quite  proper." 

"Ankles?  Ruby?"  mused  Mrs.  Kingsford,  striv- 
ing to  recollect.  "Oh,  yes;  that  was  his  horse, 
Betty.  He  calls  her  Ruby.  He  seems  very  fond 
of  horses  and  dogs  and  animals,  don't  you  think  ?" 

"Very,"  answered  Betty,  her  face  suddenly 
arrayed  in  smiles.  "But — what  a  funny  name  for  a 
horse  !"  She  laughed  softly,  and,  placing  her  arm 
about  her  mother's  waist,  gave  a  disconcerting  hug. 
"Don't  you  think  that  is  a  funny  name  for  a  horse, 
mamma?" 

Mrs.  Kingsford  suddenly  understood. 

"Very,"  she  answered,  smiling  discreetly  into  her 
mirror. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

JOHN'S  days  were  very  full,  and  the  estrangement 
with  Phillip  troubled  him  less  than  it  would  have 
had  he  had  more  time  to  give  it  thought.  To 
David  it  seemed  that  John  had  put  the  matter 
entirely  from  his  mind;  he  never  mentioned  Phillip 
any  more,  and  David's  infrequent  allusions  to  that 
youth  were  patently  unwelcome.  Yet  John  was 
not  so  indifferent  as  he  appeared.  Recollection  of 
the  incident  at  the  boarding-house  made  his  cheeks 
burn  and  his  fists  clench.  Yet  his  real  sentiment 
toward  Phillip  was  one  of  irritation  rather  than 
anger.  Could  he  have  taken  Phillip  by  the  collar  and 
shaken  an  explanation  out  of  him  he  would  have 
been  quite  satisfied  and  willing  to  clasp  hands.  His 
liking  for  the  other  remained,  but  was  for  the  while 
drowned  by  the  exasperation  he  felt. 

He  missed  Phillip's  companionship  for  more 
reasons  than  one,  of  which  not  the  least  was  that 
without  it  he  seemed  entirely  cut  off  from  Elaine 
and  Margaret.  Several  times  the  temptation  to 


352  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

write  to  Margaret  became  almost  irresistible.  He 
did  not  yield  to  it,  however,  for  it  seemed  to  him 
that  the  agreement  between  them  tacitly  forbade 
it.  His  only  intelligence  of  Elaine  reached  him 
through  Corliss,  from  whom  he  received  several 
letters  during  the  winter  term.  But  the  news  was 
scanty  and  unsatisfactory.  Mrs.  Ryerson's  health, 
Corliss  wrote  once,  was  causing  uneasiness;  she  did 
not  leave  her  room  any  more,  and  while  she  might 
live  for  a  year  or  even  two,  she  was  practically 
helpless.  John  was  glad  to  learn  by  a  subsequent 
letter  from  the  same  source  that  Markham  had 
moved  over  to  Elaine.  The  overseer  was  a  man 
after  John's  heart,  and  the  knowledge  that  he  was  at 
Margaret's  side  comforted  him.  John  wondered 
if  Phillip  was  aware  of  his  mother's  condition,  and 
lost  sight  of  some  of  his  animosity  in  the  sympathy 
he  felt  for  him. 

But  Phillip  knew  less  than  John.  Margaret 
had  written  that  their  mother  was  not  so 
well  and  that  she  stayed  in  her  room  most 
of  the  time,  but  news  was  conveyed  in  such  a 
way  as  to  cause  Phillip  little  alarm.  This  had 
been  at  Mrs.  Ryerson's  own  request.  There 
was  nothing  to  gain,  she  declared,  by  worrying 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  353 

Phil.     And   Margaret,   realizing  the  truth  of  this, 
concurred. 

In  all  of  her  letters  to  Phillip  Margaret  pleaded 
with  him  to  resume  his  friendship  with  John.  The 
fault,  she  declared  again  and  again,  was  all  hers 
John  North  had  only  done  what  she  had  asked  him 
to,  and  Phillip  was  only  hurting  her,  since  she  blamed 
herself  for  the  unfortunate  affair.  She  knew  nothing 
of  the  meeting  between  John  and  Phillip,  for  the 
latter  had  made  no  mention  of  it  in  his  letters  home. 
She  only  knew  that  Phillip  had  left  Elaine  resolute 
to  have  nothing  further  to  do  with  John,  and  that 
since  then  he  had  never  mentioned  his  name.  At 
first  Phillip  had  answered  her  argument  with  others, 
but  later  he  gave  them  no  heed. 

Margaret  in  those  days  wondered  miserably  what 
John  thought  of  her.  Whether  he  knew  the  cause  of 
Phillip's  anger;  and  if  he  did,  whether  he  believed 
she  was  keeping  silent  and  selfishly  leaving  him  to 
shoulder  the  entire  blame. 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  succeeding 
Everett's  tea  Phillip  climbed  the  Kingsford's  steps 
and  rang  the  bell.  It  had  been  snowing  all  night 
and  all  day,  and  the  big  drawing-room  was  dark  and 
depressing,  a  condition  that  chimed  admirably  with 


354  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

Phillip's  mood.  After  the  maid  left  h!m  he  sat  a 
long,  long  while  in  front  of  a  smouldering  fire  of 
cannel-coal  and  strove  to  think  of  all  the  grand  and 
dignified  and  utterly  mean  remarks  that  had  occurred 
to  him  the  night  before.  But,  for  some  reason,  his 
wrath  had  burned  out  and  he  only  felt  sorrowful 
and  depressed  and  lonely.  When  Betty  appeared, 
he  told  himself  dejectedly,  he  would  give  her  the 
photograph,  say  farewell  and  go  away  forever.  He 
looked  out  through  the  great  high  windows  into  the 
whirling  storm  and  thought  what  an  ideal  day  it 
was  on  which  to  go  away  forever  !  Then  it  occurred 
to  him  suddenly  that  "forever"  was  a  most  dis- 
piriting word  and  that  he  was  very  miserable. 

Upstairs  in  her  room,  Betty,  who  since  three 
o'clock  had  been  anxiously  watching  for  Phillip 
from  her  front  window,  was  now  impatiently  watch- 
ing the  hands  of  the  little  Dresden  clock  on  the 
mantel.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  that  Phillip 
should  wait  half  an  hour.  She  thought  the  suspense 
would  have  a  salutary  effect  on  his  temper,  and  it 
was  a  subdued  and  chastened  Phillip  that  she  wanted 
to  confront,  and  not  the  rather  dangerous-looking 
Phillip  she  had  parted  from  in  Harvard  Square  the 
day  before.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  keep 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  355 

him  waiting  thirty  minutes.  But  it  had  not  occurred 
to  her  that  she  would  also  keep  herself  waiting,  and 
now  thirty  minutes  seemed  a  terribly  long  time. 
When  ten  minutes  had  dragged  past  she  agreed  on  a 
compromise ;  twenty-five  minutes  would  do  quite  a$ 
well  as  thirty.  Five  minutes  later  she  compromised 
again ;  twenty  minutes  was  really  all  that  was  neces- 
sary. Then  she  looked  herself  over  very  carefully 
in  the  long  mirror  and  descended  the  stairs,  entering 
the  drawing-room  just  seventeen  minutes  after 
Phillip's  arrival. 

" How  do  you  do?"  she  asked  brightly,  smilingly. 
"  Isn't  this  storm  awful?" 

Phillip,  who  had  risen  to  meet  her  with  his  coun- 
tenance properly  severe,  was  so  astounded  at  this 
change  of  front  that  the  effectiveness  of  his  expres- 
sion was  somewhat  marred.  He  bowed  and  muttered 
incoherently.  Betty  sank  into  a  chair  some  ten 
feet  away  and  arranged  her  skirts  to  her  pleasure 
before  she  continued  the  conversation. 

"Did  you  have  trouble  getting  into  town?"  she 
asked. 

"No — yes,  I  believe  so,"  Phillip  replied  vaguely. 
He  was  still  standing.  Now  he  placed  a  hand 
within  his  coat  and  drew  forth  a  package. 


356  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Here  is  the  picture,"  he  announced  somberly. 

"The  picture?"  said  Betty.  "Oh,  thank  you. 
Won't  you  sit  down?" 

Phillip  stared.  Betty  continued  to  smile  with 
bright  and  amiable  politeness.  Phillip  sat  down. 
As  she  had  made  no  move  toward  taking  the  photo- 
graph, he  laid  it  irresolutely  on  a  table  at  his  elbow 
and  then  stared  at  his  shoes  with  such  apparent 
interest  that  Betty  was  moved  to  silent  laughter. 

"It  is  still  snowing,  I  think,"  she  said.  As  she 
sat  with  her  back  to  the  windows  her  uncertainty 
may  have  been  excusable.  Phillip  looked  out  into 
the  blinding  storm  and  answered  gravely  in  the 
affirmative.  He  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that 
Betty  was  secretly  laughing  at  him,  and  his  anger, 
which  had  died  overnight,  began  to  show  signs  of 
returning  animation.  He  arose  and  secured  the 
top  button  of  his  coat  to  the  second  buttonhole. 

"I  will  say  good-evening,"  he  announced. 

"But  it's  only  afternoon  !"  exclaimed  Betty,  just 
as  though  she  had  not  a  dozen  times  before  corrected 
Phillip  for  that  Southernism. 

"Good-afternoon,"  he  amended  with  much 
dignity. 

"Oh,"  said  Betty,  "must  you  go  so  soon?     Then 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  357 

you  are  not  going  to  tell  me,  after  all!"  she 
added  regretfully.  Phillip  struggled  for  a  moment 
with  curiosity.  Then  he  yielded. 

"Tell  you  what?" 

"What  you  were  going  to  tell  me  yesterday.  I 
believe  you've  forgotten !" 

"No,  but— but " 

' '  Then  you'll  tell  me  ? ' '  she  asked  eagerly.  Phillip 
glanced  behind  him.  The  chair  was  still  there.  He 
sat  down. 

"  If  you  want  to  know, "  he  muttered. 

"Of  course  I  do.  I  want  to  know  why  you  have 
not  been  in  to  see  us  for  so  long. " 

"Is — has  it  seemed  long?"  he  asked  hopefully. 

Betty  nodded  earnestly. 

"Weeks!" 

"  It's  been  two  months  !"  he  protested. 

"Really?  How  times  flies,  doesn't  it?"  said 
Betty,  wonderingly.  Phillip  wished  he  had  resisted 
temptation;  the  storm  looked  so  much  kinder  than 
Betty. 

"  It  hasn't  fly — flown  for  me, "  he  muttered. 

"  But  then  you've  had  examinations,"  said  Betty 
sympathetically.  "I'm  sure  they  must  be  dread- 
fully slow  things." 


358  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Yes."     There  followed  silence. 

"Well?"  prompted  Betty.  "I'm  waiting,  you 
know." 

"I  don't  think —  '  he  began.  Then  his  anger 
stirred  once  more  and  he  faced  her  accusingly. 
"You  don't  want  to  know,"  he  charged.  "You — 
you're  just  making  fun  of  me  !  You're  laughing  at 
me  all  the  time  !  You're — you're  cruel !" 

"Phil!" 

His  anger  died  instantly.     His  face  lighted. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Betty,  but — but — I  don't 
know  what  to  think!" 

"Think  of  what  you  are  going  to  tell  me," 
advised  Betty.  "I  don't  believe  you  have  any 
excuse,  after  all ;  you're  simply  trying  to  gain  time 
to  invent  one. " 

"I'm  not,  Betty!  Only — somehow,  it  doesn't 
seem  a  very  good  excuse  when  it  comes  to  explain- 
ing,"  faltered  Phillip.  "And  I  daresay  you'll  be 
frightfully  bored."  Betty  shook  her  head.  "You 
won't?  Well " 

So  he  told  her  the  whole  story  just  as  we  know  it, 
dear,  long-suffering  reader,  and  she  listened  very 
attentively  and  looked  bewitchingly  sympathetic 
with  the  firelight  on  her  face ;  and  Phillip  warmed  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  359 

his  narrative  and  did  it  full  justice.  Yet  when  he 
had  finished  Betty's  face  became  terribly  severe. 

"  And  pray  what  right, "  she  demanded,  "  had  you 
to  think  we  wouldn't  make  you  just  as  welcome  even 
if  you  were  poor?  A  fine  opinion  you  must  have 
formed  of  us !  When,  I  should  like  to  know,  has 
any  of  us  given  you  the  right  to — to  think  such 
things  about  us?" 

"  Never, "  he  replied  earnestly.  "  I  was  all  wrong, 
Betty;  I  see  that  now.  But,  don't  you  see,  Betty, 
at  first — I  didn't  know !  It  was  so  sudden  and 
unexpected.  I'd  never  been  poor  before.  It  was  so 
kind  of  strange;  and  some  people  do  care,  you 
know!" 

"They're  not  nice  people,  then,"  answered  Betty 
stoutly.  "Anyhow,  you  might  have  known  that 
I—  And  after  I  had  sent  you  that  photograph, 
Phil!" 

"I'm  mighty  sorry,  Betty,"  he  said  contritely. 
"  I  won't  do  it  again — ever  !" 

"I  should  hope  not!"  After  a  silence  she  said: 
"I'm  sorry  you  didn't  like  it — the  photograph,  I 
mean." 

"  Like  it !  I  did  like  it,  Betty  !  I— I  worshiped 
it!" 


360  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"Oh!" 

"  I — I  carried  it   in   my   pocket    for    days    and 
days!" 

"Then  I  don't  see  why — you  want  to  bring  it 
back." 

Phillip  gasped  and  stared  in  amazement. 

"I  don't!"  he  finally  ejaculated. 

"Oh!"  said  Betty  again. 

"You    told    me   to!"    he    cried.     Betty    looked 
scornful. 

"  What  if  I  did  ?     I  didn't  suppose  you  were  going 
to  do  it!" 

"Betty!" 

"  It  only  shows  that  you  don't  want  to  keep  it !" 

"But— Betty " 

"And  you   said  that  there   were  too   many   in 
circulation !" 
'    "Well — and  there  are,  too!" 

"They're  not!" 

"  There  are  !"  he  repeated  doggedly. 

"Only— one!" 

' '  One  !     You  said — you  said ' '     Betty  nodded 

unembarrassedly. 

"Yes;   but   that  was  just — just   because   you'd 
been  mean  to  me. " 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  361 

"  Then  they're  not,  Betty  ?  You  didn't  send  them 
all  round  everywhere  at  Christmas?" 

"  I  sent  only  one, "  answered  Betty,  "  and  that  one 
to  a — a  person  who  doesn't  care  for  it.  And  I  had 
it  taken  specially,  and  went  to  whole  heaps  of  bother, 
and  there  were  seven  negatives,  and  I  sat  three  times 
and — and  it  was  all  wasted!"  Betty's  voice  was 
vibrant  with  grief.  "Please,  will  you  hand  it  to 
me?"  she  asked  with  a  supreme  effort  to  be  brave. 
She  looked  over  the  table;  the  package  was  gone. 
Phillip's  fingers  were  tremblingly  buttoning  up  his 
coat. 

" No, "  answered  he ;  "I  won't,  Betty  !"  He  had 
covered  the  intervening  space  and  was  kneeling  at 
her  side,  her  hands  grasped  tightly.  "It's  mine; 
I'm  going  to  keep  it  forever !  And,  oh,  Betty,  you 
do  care,  don't  you?" 

"Please "  whispered  Betty  in  dismay. 

"And  you  don't  mind  if  I'm  poor?  And  you'll 
marry  me,  Betty?" 

He  was  covering  her  hands  with  kisses. 

"I'm  going  to  study  very  hard,  dear, "  he  went  on 
breathlessly,  exultantly.  "And  I'll  make  money- 
lots  of  it — somehow,  you  know !  You  will  marry 
me,  Betty?  Dear,  darling  Betty!" 


362  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Perhaps — some  day,"  murmured  Betty. 

"  Betty  !  And — Betty,  dear  ! — please  say  that 
you  love  me !" 

But  Betty  jumped  from  the  chair  before  he  could 
stop  her  and  turned  to  him  with  very  crimson 
cheeks  and  shining  eyes. 

"Phil,"  she  said,  "will  you  do  what  I  ask  you?" 

"Anything!"  He  strove  to  reach  her,  but  she 
kept  the  chair  between. 

"Very  well,"  she  answered.  "Sit  here."  She 
pointed  imperiously  to  the  chair  and  laughed 
nervously. 

"But " 

"Oh,  very  well,  then!" 

Phillip  tumbled  into  the  seat. 

"Now,"  continued  Betty,  "you  must  promise  to 
do  as  I  say. " 

"Yes,  Betty  dear,"  he  murmured,  reaching 
vainly  for  her  hand.  She  took  up  her  place  behind 
him,  leaning  over  the  chair-back. 

"You  must  close  your  eyes  and — and  no  matter 
what  happens  you  mustn't  open  them  until  I  say 
you  may.  Will  you  promise  ? ' ' 

"  Y-yes, "  answered  Phillip.     He  closed  his  eyes. 

"  Now  fold  your  hands. "     He  obeyed  with  a  sigh. 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY  363 

"  Are  your  eyes  closed  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Tight?" 

"Tight!" 

"Well "  She  looked  about  her.  The  room  was 

dim  save  for  the  gleam  of  the  little  flames,  and 
silent  save  for  the  beating  of  her  heart  and  Phillip's. 
Outside  the  windows  the  snow  was  banked  high  and 
the  swirling  flakes  still  fell  with  a  queer  little  sub- 
dued rustle  against  the  panes.  She  leaned  over  the 
chair  and  put  her  head  close  to  his. 

"Phil!" 

"Yes,  Betty?" 

"I'm  sorry  I  was  mean,"  she  whispered.  Then, 
"Remember  your  hands!" 

He  refolded  them  with  a  sigh. 

"Are  your  eyes  closed  tight,  Phil?" 

"Yes." 

"Honest?" 

"Honest!" 

"Phil!" 

"  Yes,  'Betty— dear  Betty !" 

"  I  do  love  you,  Phil !    Oh,  your  eyes,  Phil !" 

"Betty,  I  can't " 

"You  promised,"  she  whispered. 


364  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

"Oh!"  he  groaned. 

"Are  they  closed  now?" 

"Yes,  Betty." 

"Very,  very  tight?     Tighter  than  ever?" 

"Yes;  awfully  tight,  Betty!" 

"Well—  -!"  She  gathered  her  skirts  together 
in  one  hand  and  measured  the  distance  to  the 
door.  Then  Phillip,  his  eyes  "very,  very 
tight;  tighter  than  ever,"  felt  a  warm  breath  on 
his  cheek,  inhaled  a  faint  odour  of  violets,  and 
then — and  then  felt  lips  trembling  against  his 
own,  lightly,  fleetingly,  as  though  the  cool,  moist, 
fragrant  petals  of  a  rose  had  been  drawn  across  his 
mouth. 

For  one  delicious,  awe-filled  moment  he  sat  silent, 
blind,  and  his  heart  ceased  beating.  Then  promises 
were  all  forgotten.  He  opened  his  eyes.  He  sprang 
to  his  feet  with  outstretched  arms. 

"Betty!"  he  cried. 

Betty  had  flown. 

He  stared  in  bewilderment,  then  dashed  to  the 
door.  In  the  darkness  at  the  top  of  the  broad  stairs 
he  thought  he  caught  the  disappearing  flutter  of  a 
white  skirt. 

"Betty!"  he  cried  imploringly. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  365 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Then  from  above 
him  came  a  low  whisper: 

"Good-night,  Phil!" 

"Betty!     Come  down!" 

"Good-night!"  said  the  whisper. 

"  Betty  !     I'm  coming  up  !" 

The  whisper  was  alarmed. 

"  If  you  dare  !"  it  protested. 

Phillip  stood  irresolute,  one  foot  on  the  first  step 
of  the  stairway  that  led  to  Heaven. 

"You  mustn't,  Phil,"  repeated  the  whisper. 
"Good-night!" 

"Betty!"  he  cried  again. 

"Good-night !"  Angels,  it  seems,  are  not  always 
merciful. 

"Well,  then  when,  Betty?" 

"Sunday?"  asked  the  whisper. 

"Oh!"  he  protested.     "Two  days!" 

"Good-night,  Phil!" 

He  sighed  deeply. 

"Good-night,  Betty." 

Then, 

"Betty!" 

"Yes?" 

"I  love  you,  Betty!" 


366  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

There  was  silence  in  Heaven  for  a  moment.  Then 
a  railing  creaked,  and, 

"Phil!" 

"What,  Betty?" 

"I'm  throwing  you  one!" 

"Betty!" 

"Good-night,  Phil!" 

"Good-night,  Betty!  God  bless  you,  dear,  dear 
Betty!" 

Outside  on  the  steps  a  snowflake  settled  softly  on 
Phillip's  mouth.  He  gasped  and  plunged  exultantly 
into  the  storm. 

It  was  glorious  weather ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

IT  is  sometimes  rather  interesting,  if  quite  profit- 
less, to  study  the  genealogy  of  an  event,  tracing  its 
descent  back  from  one  cause  to  another  until  we 
have  found,  for  example,  that  the  failure  of  the 
grocer  to  bring  a  can  of  baking  powder  on  Thursday 
afternoon  is  responsible  for  the  loss  to  us  of  $500 
on  Friday  morning,  tracing  the  descent  in  this 
case  through  a  late  breakfast,  a  missed  train,  a 
street-car  blockade  and  a  tardy  arrival  at  our  office. 
Of  course  we  have  not  here  exhausted  the  possi- 
bilities of  this  process,  for  we  might  easily  go  further 
back  and  show  that  the  forgetfulness  of  the  grocer 
was  due  to  mental  commotion  brought  about  by 
the  extreme  illness  of  his  six-months'  old  son 
•and  heir,  produced,  in  turn,  by  the  administration 
of  laudanum  in  mistake  for  ipecac  by  his  mother. 
In  fact,  the  possibilities  only  end  with  the  original 
protoplasm;  which  really  simplifies  matters  a  great 
deal  to  the  student  of  this  line  of  research,  since  it  is 
only  necessary  to  say  "  I  lost  $500  because  of  the 

367 


368  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

original  protoplasm;  deuce  take  the  protoplasm!" 
and  give  no  attention  to  the  intermediate  events. 

But  all  this  is  entirely  beside  the  story,  and  was 
only  suggested  by  the  ease  with  which  it  is  possible 
to  trace  the  lineage  of  the  event  which  forms  a  con- 
clusion of  this  tale.  For  it  is  quite  apparent  that 
had  Sir  Henry  Irving  not  played  an  engagement  at 
the  Hollis  Street  Theatre  in  March  of  that  year  the 
final  chapter  of  this  story  would  have  been  quite 
different  from  what  it  is.  Hence,  if  the  reader  finds 
fault  with  the  conclusion — and  I  admit  that  it  might 
be  better — he  may  censure  Sir  Henry — unless  he 
prefers  to  go  back  to  the  original  protoplasm.  I, 
as  a  mere  chronicler,  disclaim  all  blame. 

Betty  wanted  to  see  Irving  in  "King  Charles  I." 
Phillip,  animated  by  his  desire  to  please  Betty, 
invited  her  and  Mrs.  Kingsford.  Betty  at  first 
refused  to  allow  him  to  indulge  in  such  expensive 
things  as  Irving  seats,  but  after  much  entreaty 
moderated  the  harshness  of  her  decree.  They  would 
go  if  Phillip  would  get  seats  in  the  balcony;  the 
balcony  was  good  enough;  one  could  see  and  hear 
beautifully.  The  prospect  of  sitting  for  three  hours 
at  Betty's  side  raised  Phillip  to  the  seventh  heaven 
of  delight,  and  the  thought  of  expending  six  dollars 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  369 

for  that  privilege  failed  to  discompose  him.  This 
was  largely  due  to  a  letter  received  a  day  or  two 
before  from  Margaret.  With  the  letter  came  a  check 
for  a  hundred  dollars. 

"  Mr.  Corliss  has  sold  an  option  on  Eliane  for 
$500,"  she  wrote.  "  He  does  not  say  who  the  parties 
are,  but  seems  almost  certain  that  they  will  purchase 
in  the  spring.  The  option  runs  until  June  ist,  and 
may  be  extended.  I  do  hope  the  sale  will  go 
through,  Phil.  Now  that  we  know  it  must  be,  the 
sooner  it's  over  with  the  better,  don't  you  think  so  ? 
Mamma  wants  you  to  have  the  money  so  that  you 
can  come  home  for  your  spring  vacation.  She  will 
be  very  disappointed  if  you  don't,  so  try  and 
arrange  it." 

And  further  on : 

"Won't  you  please  answer  my  questions  about 
Mr.  North  ?  Have  you  seen  him  ?  Are  you  friends 
again,  Phil,  dear?  Don't  let  it  go  on  any  longer, 
please,  please.  What  can  he  think  of  us,  Phil? 
He  must  believe  that  I  have  allowed  you  to  think 
it  all  his  fault.  Please  write  about  it,  dear.  It 
isn't  like  you  to  let  me  w6rry  about  anything  like 
this  and  not  try  to  help  me." 

Phillip,  moved  by  this  last  appeal,  answered  her 


370  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

questions.  "  I  am  going  to  give  him  an  opportunity 
to  explain,"  he  wrote.  "  If  he  cares  to  do  that  and 
shows  himself  decently  sorry,  all  right.  Meanwhile 
don't  worry,  Margey.  I  don't  believe  John  North 
cares  a  Continental.  I  daresay  he's  mighty  glad  to 
be  rid  of  me." 

From  the  latter  statement  it  may  be  surmised  that 
Phillip  was  a  little  piqued  at  John's  seeming  indif- 
ference. Phillip  was  very  happy  nowadays  and  his 
resentment  against  John  was  rapidly  cooling.  After 
all,  the  worst  had  not  happened;  Betty  had  never 
heard  of  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  his  disgrace. 
And  even  though  John  could  claim  no  credit  for  that 
fact,  yet  Phillip  was  inclined  to  consider  it  a  mitiga- 
ting circumstance.  It  is  probable  that  had  John 
appeared  to  Phillip  at  that  time  and  expressed 
regrets  for  having  unintentionally  wounded  the 
other's  pride,  he  would  have  been  forgiven.  But  as 
John  was  unaware  of  having  transgressed,  that  event 
was  impossible.  When  Phillip  wrote  to  Margaret 
of  giving  John  an  opportunity  to  explain,  he  referred 
to  the  note  which  he  had  frequently  postponed 
writing  but  which  he  really  intended  to  write. 

Phillip  conferred  with  Chester  in  regard  to  the 
theatre  tickets,  recognizing  in  his  roommate  an 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  371 

authority  on  the  subject.  And  Chester,  after  vainly 
endeavouring  to  persuade  Phillip  to  see  "Louis  XI." 
instead  of  "Charles  I.,"  as  being  rather  more 
"bloody,"  came  to  his  assistance  with  advice. 

"What  you  want  to  do,"  he  said,  "is  to  go  over 
to  Thurston's  and  leave  an  order  in  advance.  They'll 
get  you  just  what  you  want." 

"But  won't  that  be  awfully  expensive?"  asked 
Phillip. 

"  Well,  maybe  it  would.  I'd  forgotten.  The  only 
thing  to  do,  then,  is  to  get  in  line." 

"What's  that?" 

"You  go  to  the  theatre  the  night  before  the  sale 
and  stand  in  line  until  the  next  morning.  It's  not 
bad  fun,  really.  I'll  tell  you  what !  We'll  go  in 
together  and  take  turns  waiting  !" 

"  But  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  see  him?" 

"  I  wasn't,  but  I  don't  mind  seeing  "  Sans  Gene  " 
again.  We  can  have  lots  of  fun  getting  tickets." 

So  the  following  Wednesday  evening  they  went 
into  town  at  ten  o'clock,  and  after  a  light  supper  at 
Marliave's,  insisted  upon  by  Chester  and  partaken 
of  at  his  expense,  betook  themselves  to  the  theatre. 
They  were  by  no  means  the  first  on  the  scene. 
Already  fully  a  dozen  persons  were  leaning  against 


372  THE   LAND  OF  JOY 

the  theatre  wall  and  armed  with  camp  stools, 
mackintoshes  and  umbrellas. 

"We  ought  to  have  brought  stools,"  said  Chester. 
"How  silly  of  me  to  forget."  . 

"And  I  reckon  we'll  need  umbrellas,  too,"  added 
Phillip.  "  It  looks  a  good  deal  like  rain,  don't  you 
think  so?" 

Chester  did. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  I'll  go  back  to  the  room 
and  get  a  mackintosh  and  an  umbrella ;  and  maybe  I 
can  find  a  camp  stool  somewhere." 

So  back  to  college  he  went,  while  Phillip  made 
himself  number  fourteen,  or  it  may  have  been  fifteen, 
in  the  line.  After  awhile  the  performance  let  out 
and  the  lobby  was  filled  with  men  and  women  in 
evening  dress,  and  the  little  narrow  street  became 
a  bedlam  as  the  carriages  dashed  up  for  their  loads. 
It  was  quite  interesting  and  Phillip  enjoyed  it.  But 
about  midnight  the  excitement  waned  and  the 
novelty  began  to  wear  off.  To  make  matters  worse, 
it  began  to  rain,  gently,  insistently,  and  the  chill  got 
under  his  overcoat  and  set  him  to  shivering.  Now 
and  then  a  waiter  left  the  line  and  tramped  about 
and  swung  his  arms,  his  claim  to  his  position  being 
respected  by  the  rest.  Most  of  them,  Phillip  con- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  373 

eluded,  were  speculators,  though  here  and  there 
stood  one  who  was  evidently,  like  himself,  present 
from  motives  of  economy.  Phillip  wondered  what 
had  become  of  Chester,  and  longed  greatly  for  the 
promised  umbrella  and  mackintosh.  But  at  one 
o'clock  Chester  was  still  absent  and  Phillip  gave  up 
hoping  for  him.  By  that  hour  the  throng  had 
increased  to  fully  half  a  hundred.  Now  and  then 
a  policeman  strolled  by,  and  once  a  vendor  of  sand- 
wiches and  coffee  appeared  and  did  a  rushing 
business. 

But  it  was  tiresome,  miserable  work.  Phillip 
was  wet  and  sleepy  and  cold.  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
Betty  he  would  have  given  up  long  before  the 
interminable  night  was  over  and  gone  home  to  bed. 
As  it  was,  however,  he  stuck  it  out.  When  daylight 
came  and  the  electric  lamps  grew  dimmer  and  dimmer 
and  finally  flickered  out  he  felt  weak  and  dizzy,  and 
the  second  repast  of  coffee  and  sandwiches  failed  to 
comfort  him.  At  eight  o'clock  the  line  stretched 
the  length  of  the  street  and  an  army  of  small  specu- 
lators were  offering  to  buy  positions  at  the  head.  At 
half  past  nine  he  was  on  his  way  back  to  Cambridge, 
the  three  dearly  bought  slips  of  pasteboard  in  his 
pocket,  a  horrible  taste  in  his  mouth,  a  gone  sensa- 


374  THE  LAND   OF  JOY 

tion  in  his  stomach  and  a  splitting  headache.  He 
went  to  sleep  in  the  corner  of  the  car  and  had  to  be 
awakened  at  the  square.  From  thence  he  tramped 
across  the  Yard,  sneezing  at  every  third  step,  and 
found  Chester  dressing. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,  Phil,"  the  latter  declared. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it.  But  I  was  so  darned  sleepy 
when  I  got  back  that  I  just  laid  down  for  a  moment 
on  the  couch — just  to  get  a  dozen  winks,  you  know. 
Well,  when  I  woke  up  it  was  half  past  four,  by  jingo  ! 
Of  course  there  was  no  use  going  back  to  town  then, 
so  I  took  my  things  off  and  went  to  bed.  I'm 
awfully  sorry,  really !" 

"  It  doesn't  matter, "  replied  the  other.  "  I  think 
I'll  lie  down  awhile  myself.  Wake  me  in  about  an 
hour,  will  you?" 

In  the  late  afternoon  he  hunted  up  Everett. 

"  I  got  tickets  for  Monday  night.  Will  you  tell 
your  sister,  please?  And  I'll  be  at  the  house  at 
seven  fifteen.  I  reckon  I'll  go  back  now;  my  head 
aches  and  I'm  kind  of  funny  all  over.  I'm  going  to 
bed." 

He  staggered  against  a  chair  and  subsided  into  it 
limply. 

"  Here,  you  come  with  me, "  said  Everett. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  375 

He  took  him  back  to  his  room  and  didn't  leave 
him  until  he  was  in  bed  with  all  the  covers  that 
could  be  found  piled  on  top  of  him. 

"Maybe  I'd  ought  to  send  the  doctor  to  you," 
said  Everett  undecidedly.  But  Phillip  wouldn't 
hear  of  it.  He  was  all  right  now,  he  declared 
between  chattering  teeth;  all  he  needed  was  sleep. 
No,  he  didn't  want  any  dinner.  But  would  Everett 
please  tell  his  mother  and  Betty- 
Everett  promised  and  went  off  doubtfully.  By 
good  fortune  he  met  Chester  on  the  avenue  and  told 
him  of  Phillip's  plight,  and  Chester  flew  back  to 
Thayer  calling  himself  bad  names.  When  he 
arrived  Phillip  was  sitting  up  in  bed  singing  happily : 

"  O,  Annie  Moore,  sweet  Annie  Moore ! 
I  shall  never  see  sweet  Annie  any  more ! 
She  went  away  one  summer  day, 
And  I'll  never  see  my  Annie  any  more  I 
O,  Annie  Moore,  sweet " 

Chester  pushed  him  back  against  the  tumbled 
pillows  and  drew  the  covers  over  him. 

"  Phil, "  he  cried  with  a  frightened  sob  in  his  voice, 
"Phil,  please  shut  up!" 

"  O,  Annie  Moore " 

"Oh,  Phil,  please,  please  lie  down  and  shut 
up!"  begged  Chester.  "You're — you're  daffy,  you 
know!" 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

JOHN  stood  on  the  platform  of  the  Back  Bay 
station  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Federal  Express 
from  Washington  bearing  Margaret.  The  time  was 
a  few  minutes  before  seven  of  a  blustery  March 
morning,  and  down  here  underground  the  cold  was 
intense.  John  thumped  his  gloved  hands  together 
and  took  a  turn  up  the  platform.  A  suburban 
express  had  just  emptied  a  portion  of  its  load,  but 
the  arrivals  had  already  hurried  away  and  the  place 
was  deserted.  John  glanced  at  the  clock  and  for 
the  fiftieth  time  wondered  how  he  should  greet 
Margaret.  His  heart  was  beating  at  a  disconcert- 
ing rate,  and  his  thoughts  refused  to  grapple  with 
the  stupendous  problem,  but  darted  off  to  recollec- 
tions of  their  parting  nearly  three  months  before, 
to  what  he  must  tell  her  about  Phillip.  And  all  the 
while  he  was  conscious  of  a  disappointing  attempt 
to  summon  before  him  a  mental  picture  of  her.  Her 
eyes,  brown,  deep,  inscrutable,  looked  back  at  him 
from  the  gloom,  but  the  rest  of  her  features  were 

376 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  377 

illusive,  indistinct  on  the  shadowy  canvas  of  mem- 
ory. And  suddenly  the  long  train  thundered  in. 

He  waited  by  the  steps  of  the  Pullman,  and  when 
the  last  passenger  had  descended  turned  away  in 
keen  disappointment.  She  had  not  come !  But 
the  next  instant  his  eyes  caught  her  farther  up  the 
platform,  standing,  a  lithe  figure  in  a  gray  cloth 
dress,  looking  perplexedly  about  her.  She  wore  a 
great  fur  boa  about  her  neck  and  her  bag  stood 
beside  her.  And  after  all  his  thought  what  he  said 
to  her  was  simply : 

"Margaret!" 

She  turned  with  a  little  flash  of  pleasure  and  relief 
and  gave  him  her  hand. 

"You  didn't  sit  up  all  night!"  he  exclaimed 
anxiously. 

"No;  I  laid  down.     I  slept  very  well." 

"But  you  shouldn't  have  done  that,"  he  said 
with  a  touch  of  exasperation.  "You've  tired 
yourself  all  out." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"No;  I'm  not  tired,"  she  answered.  "Tell  me 
about  Phillip,  please." 

"  Yes ;  but  let  us  get  out  of  here ;  it's  beastly  cold." 
He  took  her  bag  and  led  the  way  to  the  elevator. 


378  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"  Phil  is  very  ill,  Miss  Ryerson, "  he  continued,  "but 
there  is  no  cause  for  alarm.  That  was  the  doctor's 
verdict  last  night.  When  we  reach  the  cab  I  will 
tell  you  more. 

"  To  the  Lenox, "  he  said  to  the  cabman.  "  We're 
going  to  have  breakfast  before  we  go  out,"  he 
explained  as  the  door  slammed  behind  him.  "Are 
you  warm  enough?"  He  drew  the  rug  about  her 
and  looked  at  her  anxiously.  Her  face  was  very 
pale  and  there  were  dark  shadows  under  her  eyes. 
But  she  smiled  and  nodded  in  reply. 

"  And  now  about  Phil,  please,  Mr.  North,"  she  said. 

"As  the  telegram  told  you,"  John  answered, 
''  Phil's  got  pneumonia.  As  near  as  I  can  make  out, 
he  got  wet  through  last  Wednesday  night  and  caught 
cold.  It  seems  he  wanted  to  get  tickets  for  Irving 
and  stood  up  in  line  all  night  at  the  theatre.  It 
rained,  and  he  didn't  have  any  protection,  and — well, 
the  natural  thing  happened,  I  guess.  He  went  to 
bed  Thursday  evening  and  he's  been  there  ever 
since.  The  trouble  declared  itself  Saturday,  and 
we  telegraphed  at  once." 

"We  didn't  get  it  until  yesterday  afternoon," 
said  Margaret.  "  Of  course,  mamma  couldn't  come, 
and  so " 


THE  LAND   OF  JOY  379 

"  No ;  I  didn't  think  she  could.  But — but  couldn't 
you  have  brought  one  of  the  servants?  I  don't 
like  the  idea  of  you  traveling  up  here  all  alone," 
he  said  half  apologetically. 

"  It  would  have  meant  another  fare, "  she  answered 
simply.  "I  didn't  think  we  ought  to  spend  more 
than  we  had  to.  There  will  be  the  doctor's  bill, 
you  know.  Is  he — is  he  out  of  his  head  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  that's  to  be  expected,  you  know.  The 
doctor — and  by  the  way,  he's  the  best  I  could  find — 
the  doctor  says  that  Phil  has  a  good,  tough  constitu- 
tion and  that  he  ought  to  pull  through  all  right. 
Only  it  will  be  some  time  before  he's  well  again. " 

"  I  know.  The  time  is  nothing  if  only — he  gets 
well."  Suddenly,  to  John's  consternation,  she 
turned  her  face  away  from  him,  laid  her  head  against 
the  cushion  and  wept  softly  from  sheer  fatigue  and 
nervousness.  He  longed  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and 
comfort  her,  and  the  temptation  to  do  so  was  so 
great  that  he  had  to  grit  his  teeth  and  look  away 
from  the  slim,  heaving  shoulders. 

"  There's  scarcely  any  question  about  his  getting 
well,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "He's  got  a  splendid 
doctor,  good  care  and  a  lot  of  strength.  We'll  pull 
him  through  all  right,  Miss  Ryerson. " 


380  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

The  averted  head  nodded.  One  smai_  gray- 
gloved  hand  lay  beside  him.  John  laid  his  own 
upon  it  reassuringly  and  his  heart  leaped  as  he  felt 
it  seized  and  clung  to  desperately.  As  soon  as  he 
was  sure  of  his  voice  he  went  on : 

"They  were  afraid  to  take  him  to  the  hospital 
and  so  he's  in  his  own  room  in  Thayer.  His  room- 
mate, young  Baker,  moved  out  and  they  put  Phil 
into  the  study.  The  nurse  has  the  bedroom.  I've 
taken  a  room  for  you  nearby,  on  Broadway.  It's  a 
nice  house  and  I  think  you'll  be  very  comfortable. " 

"  You've  been  very  kind, "  said  a  tremulous  voice. 

"Oh,  no,"  he  answered.  "I've  wished  I  could 
be  of  some  real  service,  but  there's  so  little  a  fellow 
can  do.  Now  that  you're  here,  I  have  a  feeling  that 
everything  is  going  to  be  all  right. " 

The  hand  drew  itself  away  in  search  of  a  handker- 
chief and  the  cab  came  to  a  stop.  Margaret  dried 
her  eyes,  put  back  her  hair  and  fixed  her  hat.  Then 
she  turned  to  John  with  a  smile  that  was  quite  like 
those  he  remembered. 

"  I  feel  better,"  she  said.  "  I  was  tired,  after  all, 
and — all  the  way  I  feared  that  something  dread- 
ful would  happen  before  I  got  here.  I  shan't  be 
so  silly  again.  Do  we  get  out  here  ?" 


THE  LAND  OF  JOY  381 

The  next  week,  in  spite  of  Phillip's  excellent  con- 
stitution and  the  best  of  care  he  received,  was  an 
anxious  one.  Margaret  spent  day  after  day  at  the 
bedside  and  sometimes  shared  a  night's  watching 
with  the  professional  nurse.  Chester,  very  misera- 
ble for  his  share  in  the  catastrophe,  came  twice 
daily  to  the  door  and  went  away  comforted  or 
alarmed,  according  to  the  news  he  received.  And 
every  morning  a  brougham  stopped  outside  the 
Class  of  '79  gate  and  a  liveried  footman  presented 
Mrs.  Kingsford's  compliments  and  begged  to  know 
Mr.  Ryerson's  condition. 

Betty,  sorrowful,  fearful,  sat  at  home  and  waited. 
That  was  all  Betty  could  do,  and  it  was  the  hardest. 
She  became  a  very  white-faced  and  hollow-eyed 
Betty,  who  ate  almost  nothing,  and  who  alarmed 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kingsford  until,  in  desperation,  they 
threatened  to  send  her  South.  But  ere  the  threat 
could  be  put  into  execution  the  footman  returned 
from  Cambridge  one  morning  with  che  news  that 
the  crisis  was  over  and  that,  unless  a  relapse  occurred, 
the  patient  would  recover.  That  day  Betty  ate 
four  fried  oysters  at  luncheon,  and  there  was  no 
more  talk  of  exile. 

Two  days  later  John  and  David  called  for  Margaret 


382  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  and  bullied  her 
into  taking  a  walk.  David  went  under  protest, 
and  John,  while  insisting,  really  didn't  want  him. 
But  he  thought  that  perhaps  Margaret  would  prefer 
having  a  third.  It  was  a  marvelously  warm,  after- 
noon, and  they  went  up  to  Elmwood  and  back. 
David  stayed  awake  the  entire  time  and  excelled 
himself  as  a  conversationalist.  After  that  the 
walks  were  daily  events  when  the  weather  allowed. 
David  didn't  always  go,  but  it  is  not  known  that 
either  John  or  Margaret  felt  the  lack  of  his  presence. 
March  was  very  kind  that  year  and  gave  day  after 
day  of  spring  skies  and  swelling  buds.  Phillip's 
recovery,  slow  as  it  was,  filled  Margaret  with  a 
great  peace  and  contentment,  while  John  was  almost 
irresponsibly  happy.  They  talked  of  every  subject 
under  the  blue  sky  save  one — the  one  nearest  John's 
heart.  He  was  careful  to  speak  no  word  of  his 
love,  even  though,  as  it  sometimes  seemed,  every- 
thing conspired  to  compel  him.  Margaret  was  very 
kind,  very  gentle,  and  John  might  have  been  excused 
had  he  read  something  of  encouragement  in  her 
bearing  toward  him.  But  he  didn't.  It  did  not 
for  a  moment  occur  to  him  that  absence  might  have 
worked  in  his  favour.  Margaret  had  declared  at 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  383 

Elaine  that  she  had  no  love  for  him,  that  she  was 
assured  she  never  could  have,  and  he  knew  better 
than  to  think  that  three  months  of  separation  had 
made  any  difference  in  her  sentiments.  He  had 
her  promise,  he  consoled  himself,  and  there  was 
lots  of  time  yet.  If  his  plans  turned  out  the  way 
he  expected  them  to  the  autumn  might  tell  another 
tale.  So  he  kept  his  love  out  of  sight  deep  down 
in  his  heart,  where  it  constantly  rumbled  like  a 
dangerous  volcano  and  threatened  to  erupt,  and 
was  evenly,  calmly  kind  and  thoughtful  of  her 
comfort  and  pleasure.  And  Margaret  wondered 
and  began  to  doubt. 

There  are  several  ways  in  which  to  take  a  census 
of  one's  friends.  One  way  is  to  die;  but  that  has 
its  drawbacks.  Another  way  is  to  be  very  ill  and 
recover.  Phillip  was  trying  the  latter  method, 
and  his  census  was  growing  surprisingly  long. 
Fellows  who  shouted  greetings  to  him  across  the 
Yard  or  nodded  smilingly  in  class  came  and  left 
cards  with  sincere  little  scrawls  on  the  backs. 
After  the  tide  had  set  firmly  in  his  favour,  flowers 
and  fruit  and  strange  delicacies  came  at  every  hour. 
David  had  sincere  faith  in  the  strength-restoring 
properties  of  a  certain  brand  of  calf's-foot  jelly  that 


384  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

was  obtainable  only  at  one  high-class  grocery  in 
New  York,  and  had  a  case  of  it  delivered  at  Thayer. 
The  Kingsfords  sent  flowers  every  day.  Guy  Bassett 
made  a  specialty  of  mandarin  oranges,  and  Chester 
searched  the  Boston  markets  from  end  to  end 
before  he  found  grapes  that  entirely  satisfied  his 
fastidious  taste. 

I  don't  want  to  throw  the  least  discredit  on  the 
motives  that  prompted  some  of  these  offerings; 
I  only  mention,  as  having  possibly  some  bearing 
on  the  proceedings,  that  men  had  a  habit  in  those 
days  of  asking  each  other,  "Have  you  seen  Phil 
Ryerson's  sister?  Man,  she's  a  perfect  peach!" 

And  very  often  the  reply  was:  "No;  is  that  so? 
That  reminds  me ;  I  was  going  to  leave  my  card  on 
the  poor  duffer.  Guess  I'll  drop  around  there  this 
afternoon." 

It  had  been  decided  that  as  soon  as  Phillip  was 
in  condition  to  travel  he  was  to  be  taken  home, 
and  Margaret  began  to  count  the  days.  Phillip's 
recovery  was  slow.  But,  as  the  doctor  reassuringly 
reminded  her,  he  had  been  a  pretty  sick  boy,  and 
in  getting  well  it  was  a  good  policy  to  make  haste 
slowly.  Phillip  was  hungrily  eating  dozens  of 
oranges  and  drinking  quarts  and  quarts  of  milk 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  385 

every  day,  and  querulously  accusing  all  hands  of 
trying  to  starve  him.  But  for  all  this  he  was  still 
very  weak  and  slept  a  good  deal  of  the  time.  And 
the  April  recess  was  approaching. 

At  last,  one  warm  and  showery  afternoon,  he  was 
allowed  to  see  visitors.  Margaret  had  been  looking 
forward  to  that  moment  and  laying  her  plans. 
John  came  at  half  past  three.  She  met  him  at  the 
door.  "He  is  sitting  up,"  she  whispered.  "I  want 
you  to  go  in  and  see  him;  will  you?" 

John  .  hesitated,  but  only  because  he  feared  his 
appearance  would  agitate  and  excite  Phillip. 

"You  said  you'd  forgiven  him,"  she  pleaded. 

"There  was  little  to  forgive,"  he  answered.  "It 
isn't  that ;  but  do  you  think  he  wants  to  see  me  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  replied  eagerly;  "I'm  sure  he  does." 

Phillip  was  sitting,  pillow-propped,  in  a  huge  arm- 
chair beside  the  bed.  He  wore  a  flowered  dressing- 
gown  of  Chester's,  a  thing  of  vivid  red  and  lavender 
and  green,  and  his  pale  face  looked  whiter  by  con- 
trast. Beside  him,  on  the  little  table,  a  bunch  of 
fragrant  violets  thrust  their  long,  graceful  stems  into 
a  glass.  They  were  the  only  flowers  in  the  room,  and 
even  they  would  have  been  banished  with  the  rest 
by  the  nurse  had  not  Phillip  rebelled.  There  was 


3  86  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

a  card  leaning  against  the  glass — a  large,  square, 
important  -  looking  card,  bearing  thirteen  small, 
severe  letters.  Phillip  was  looking  sentimentally 
from  card  to  blossoms  when  the  door  opened 
again. 

"Here's  some  one  to  see  you,  Phil,"  Margaret 
announced.  She  passed  through  into  the  bedroom, 
closing  the  door  behind  her.  Phillip  turned  his 
head  languidly,  and  at  sight  of  the  caller  the  blood 
rushed  into  his  face  and  then  receded  as  quickly, 
leaving  it  paler  than  before.  John  took  one  thin 
hand  and  spoke  naturally  and  simply  as  he  gripped 
it. 

"Phil,  old  man,  this  is  good.  You've  had  us 
rather  worried,  you  know."  He  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed.  ' '  How  are  you  feeling  ?" 

"Better,  thank  you,"  Phillip  answered,  rather 
stiffly.  "It's  powerful  slow  work,  though." 

"It  must  seem  so.  But  your  sister  tells  me  that 
she  expects  you  to  be  fit  to  make  the  trip  home  by 
the  middle  of  next  week.  You'll  soon  pick  up  at 
Elaine,  I'll  bet.  Why,  hang  it,  Phil,  if  I  were  on  my 
last  legs  and  some  kind  person  shipped  me  down 
there  to  your  place  I'd  be  out  hunting  the  traction 
engine  in  a  week  !" 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  387 

Phillip  smiled,  but  the  smile  didn't  last.  He  put 
his  hands  together  and  began  interlacing  the  fingers, 
just  as  Margaret  had  done,  John  thought,  on  the 
porch  at  Elaine  that  morning. 

"That's  a  jolly  smelly  bunch  of  violets,"  said  John. 

"Yes,  they're  very  sweet." 

"Who  sent  them?"  He  leaned  forward  and  read 
the  card.  "Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Phil !" 

"It's— it's  no  secret,"  said  Phillip. 

"Kingsford's  sister,  Phil?" 

"Yes." 

"I  saw  her  once;  an  awfully  nice-looking  girl." 

"Yes.  They've  been  mighty  good  to  me,  the 
Kingsfords." 

"They're  nice  people,"  said  John.  "Have  you 
seen  Everett?" 

"No;  you're  the  first  one — that's  been  here — that 
I've  seen,  you  know." 

"I  see.  Chester  Baker  has  been  in  a  terrible 
state  of  funk  over  you,  Phil.  He  told  me  one  day 
that  it  was  his  fault  that  you  were  ill,  and  that  if 
you  'pegged  out' — to  use  his  own  elegant  expression 
—he  was  going  to  China.  I  don't  know  why  China 
particularly;  he  didn't  say.  But  maybe  he  was 
going  to  turn  Boxer." 


3  88  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"It  wasn't  his  fault,"  said  Phillip.  Then,  after 
a  pause:  "The  fellows  have  been  mighty  kind, 
John ;  whole  stacks  of  them  left  cards  and  fruit  and 
things,  Margey  says — fellows  I  didn't  know  very 
well,  some  of  them."  He  paused  again.  "And  you 
— Margey  says  you've  been  awfully  good  to  her — 
and  me;  and — "  he  leaned  forward  and  arranged 
Betty's  card  in  a  new  position,  a  flush  of  colour  in  his 
cheeks — "thank  you,"  he  muttered. 

"Nonsense,  Phil;  I've  done  very  little.  I'm  not 
nearly  even  with  you  yet  for  your  kindness  to  me 
at  Elaine.  I  enjoyed  myself  there  more  than  I  have 
anywhere  for  a  long  while.  Well,  I  must  be  going 
or  the  nurse  will  throw  me  out.  Hurry  up  and  get 
well,  Phil."  He  held  out  his  hand.  Phillip  laid 
his  own  in  it. 

"Good-by.     You'll  come  again?" 

"Often  as  they'll  let  me,  old  chap."  He  moved 
toward  the  door.  With  his  hand  on  the  knob  he 
heard  his  name  spoken  and  turned. 

"Come  back  a  minute,  will  you?"  Phillip  was 
asking. 

"Of  course.  I  don't  want  to  rush  away,  Phil,  but 
there's  the  tyrannical  nurse  to  think  of.  What  is  it, 
old  chap?"  He  walked  back  to  the  chair.  Phillip 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  389 

was  bunching  up  the  rug  over  his  knees  with  nervous 
fingers. 

"John,"  he  began  in  a  low  voice. 

"Hold  on  now,  Phil,"  the  other  broke  in.  "If 
you  say  one  word  about — that — I'll  get  out  of  here 
so  quick  you  won't  see  me  go;  and  I  won't  come 
back,  either." 

"But  I  must,"  insisted  Phillip.  "You've  got  to 
say — you've  got  to  forgive 

"Chuck  it,  Phil!  Listen  to  me  a  minute.  I 
made  a  mistake — unintentional,  Phil — and  you 
didn't  like  it.  I'm  sorry,  and  you've  pardoned  it — 
or  you're  going  to.  It's  all  over  with  and  it's  all 
right,  old  chap;  it's  all  right !" 

Phillip  shook  his  head. 

"It  isn't,"  he  muttered.  "There's— that  night 
when  I  met  you  in  the  hall " 

"And  we  both  lost  our  tempers.  I  remember. 
Well,  we've  found  them  again.  Now  let's  forget 
about  it,  Phil.  You  get  well  and  come  back  and 
we'll  begin  over  again.  I'll  see  if  I  can't  be  a  better 
guardian.  Good-by  again,  old  man." 

"Well " 

"Yes,  it's  all  right." 

"I  know,  but — I'm  sorry,  John.       I  was  a  little 


390  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

beast.  You  ought  to  have  kicked  me.  Why  didn't 
you?" 

"Did  think  of  it,"  laughed  John,  "but  concluded 
I'd  better  not  try  it  on." 

"And — well — you're  sure  it's  all  right  now,  John  ?" 

"All  serene,  Phil."  He  rumpled  the  other's  hair. 
"Get  well,  eh?" 

"Yes." 

"You'll  be  back  after  recess,  feeling  fine.  We'll 
have  a  good  time  this  spring;  there's  no  place  like 
Cambridge  in  spring,  Phil." 

"I  wish  you  were  going  to  be  here  next  year," 
mourned  Phillip. 

"So  do  I.  But  you'll  have  David;  I'm  going  to 
make  him  guardian  in  my  place.  Besides,  I've  got 
a  plan — but  I'll  tell  you  about  that  later.  So  long." 

"Good-by.     I  wish  you'd  come  to-morrow  !" 

"I  will.     Thunder  !  here's  Miss  Davis  !" 

But  it  wasn't  the  nurse;  it  was  Margaret  who 
appeared  at  the  bedroom  door.  She  glanced  swiftly 
from  one  to  the  other  and  smiled  happily  at  what 
she  saw. 

After  that  John  came  almost  every  day  and 
Phillip's  recovery  was  more  rapid.  It  was  Phillip 
who  thought  of  asking  John  back  to  Elaine. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  391 

"I  wish  you  could  go  with  us,"  he  said  one  day 
when  they  were  discussing  the  trip.  "I  shall  be  an 
awful  bother  to  Margey,  you  see.  Couldn't  you 
come  along  and  stay  with  us  for  awhile?  We 
wouldn't  ask  you  to  remain  for  the  whole  recess,  of 
course,  but — two  or  three  days,  say— 

"Oh,  if  you  would !"  said  Margaret.  "I've  been 
wondering  how  I  was  to  get  Phil  home  safely.  But 
perhaps  you  were  going  somewhere  else?  We 
haven't  any  right  to  ask  you  to  take  all  the  trouble, 
Mr.  North,  I  know." 

"If  you  think  I  can  help  I'll  be  very  glad  to  go 
with  you,"  he  answered  readily.  "Recess  doesn't 
begin  until  Saturday,  but  if  you  leave  Thursday  I 
can  sign  off,  I  think.  I  don't  believe,  however,  that 
I  ought  to  stay  at  Elaine,  Miss  Ryerson;  you'll 
have  trouble  enough  with  this  cantankerous  invalid 
without  having  a  guest  to  bother  with." 

"I'm  not  cantankerous!"  cried  Phillip.  "I'm 
mighty  good ;  ask  Margey !  And,  anyhow,  you're 
not  a  guest;  you're  just — just  John.  And  I  want 
you  to  stay  a  week.  If  you  don't  I  shall  have  a 
relapse.  I  reckon  there's  one  coming  on  now ! 
Will  you  stay  ?  Quick  !  It's  coming  !" 

"Maybe,"   laughed  John.     "For  a  day  or  two, 


392  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

anyhow,  Phil,  if  your  sister  will  put  up  with  the 
bother." 

Callers  came  thick  that  week.  Chester  was  among 
the  first.  He  reviled  himself  eloquently  and  at 
great  length,  and  assured  Phillip  that  he  hadn't  had 
a  good  night's  sleep  since  the  other  had  been  ill. 
Phillip  begged  him  to  go  back  to  his  room  and  get 
some  at  once  and  stop  talking  nonsense.  David 
came,  and  Guy  Bassett,  and  more  beside.  David 
told  Phillip  solemnly  that  he  was  sure  he  would  get 
well  if  he  stuck  to  the  calf's-foot  jelly;  and  Phillip 
very  carefully  refrained  from  telling  him  that  the 
contents  of  the  case  were  still  untouched. 

Betty's  violets  continued  to  come  every  morning, 
and  of  late  little  notes — rather  incoherent  and  very 
sprawly — came  with  them.  Phillip  spent  a  good 
deal  of  time  with  a  pad  on  his  knee  answering  them. 
Of  course  Margaret  had  learned  about  Betty. 
Charged  with  the  fell  crime  of  being  in  love,  Phillip 
had  made  a  clean  breast  of  it  all,  and  Margaret  had 
perforce  to  listen,  sometimes  for  an  hour  at  a  time, 
to  enthusiastic  eulogies  of  Miss  Betty  Kingsford. 
But  for  all  that  she  had  no  intention  of  accepting 
Betty  on  such  slim  evidence  as  a  lover's  praises; 
she  must  see  her  first.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Margaret 


THE   LAND  OF  JOY  393 

had  her  doubts  as  to  the  worthiness  of  Miss  Kings- 
ford,  just  as  she  would  have  had  doubts  as  to  the 
worthiness  of  any  girl  who  attained  to  the  honour 
of  becoming  Mrs.  Phillip  Ryerson.  Deep  in  her 
heart  she  doubted  if  any  girl  was  quite  good 
enough  for  Phil. 

Phillip  saw  Betty  but  once  before  he  went  home. 
It  had  been  all  arranged  beforehand.  Everett  was 
to  bring  her  out  on  Wednesday  afternoon;  they 
were  to  leave  Thursday  evening.  Phillip  was  in  a 
state  of  illy  concealed  excitement  and  impatience 
all  that  day.  He  worried  Margaret  half  to  death 
with  his  constant  suggestions  for  the  improvement 
of  the  room ;  chairs  were  moved  hither  and  thither 
and  then  moved  back  again ;  flowers  were  distributed 
upon  all  sides;  he  would  have  had  the  pictures  on 
the  wall  rearranged  had  not  Margaret's  patience 
come  to  an  end  and  had  she  not  flatly  refused  to 
move  another  thing. 

"You  must  be  crazy,  Phil,"  she  exclaimed  once, 
almost  crossly.  (She  was  a  little  bit  jealous,  had 
she  but  known  it.)  "The  idea  of  moving  every- 
thing in  the  room  simply  because  Miss  Kingsford 
is  coming !" 

"I  don't  see  that,"  Phillip  had  objected  stoutly. 


394  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"When  a  fellow's  going  to  receive  the  girl  he's  to 
marry 

"Shucks!"  answered  Margaret,  unimpressed  by 
his  intense  dignity;  "you  know  you  can't  be  married 
for  three  years  at  least.  And  besides,  you  say 
yourself  that  she  hasn't  really  promised — that 
there's  no  engagement !" 

"We're  as  good  as  engaged,"  answered  Phillip. 
"She  just  hasn't  said  so  out  and  out,  that's  all." 

Betty  had  thought  out  just  what  she  was  going 
to  say  and  just  how  she  was  going  to  behave. 
Phillip's  sister  would  be  there,  of  course,  and  so  she 
would  be  very  dignified  and  a  bit  prim,  perhaps. 
She  would  shake  hands  with  Phil  and  tell  him  she 
was  glad  he  was  so  much  better,  and  that  he  must 
hurry  and  get  fully  well.  As  for  the  sister — well, 
Betty  hoped  she  would  like  her.  But  if  she  didn't — 
Betty  made  a  face  at  herself  in  the  mirror.  So 
Miss  Elizabeth  Kingsford  wore  her  very  best  gown 
and  descended  from  the  carriage  with  great  dignity. 
Yet,  when  she  entered  the  study,  followed  by 
Everett,  and  caught  sight  of  Phillip,  she  completely 
forgot  her  part. 

She  was  unprepared  for  the  thin,  white-faced  and 
big-eyed  Phil  that  confronted  her,  and  she  gave  a 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  395 

little  gasp  of  pain  and  dismay.  Miss  Elizabeth 
Kingsford  was  lost  at  the  door,  and  it  was  just 
Betty  that  ran  across  the  study  and  plumped 
herself  into  Phillip's  arms  and  kissed  him  and  cried 
over  him  a  little. 

"Oh,  Phil,  you're  so  thin!"  she  sobbed.  "I 
didn't  know — you — would  be  like — this  !" 

"Betty,  dear  Betty!"  he  murmured  to  her,  a 
very  happy  Phillip.  "It's  all  right,  dear;  don't 
bother  about  me!" 

"N-no,  I  wo-on't!"  sniffled  Betty.  Then,  with 
a  recollection  of  her  brother  and  Margaret,  she 
raised  her  head  from  Phillip's  shoulder  and  faced 
them  half  defiantly.  Everett's  look  of  amazement 
summoned  a  little  tremulous  laugh. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,"  she  explained,  drawing  an 
impatient  white-gloved  hand  across  her  eyes;  "we 
—we're  engaged,  you  know. " 


CHAPTER  XXV 

IT  was  April  in  New  England,  but  here  at  Elaine 
it  was  May — warm,  verdant,  fragrant  May.  To  be 
sure,  they  called  it  April,  but  John,  sprawled  out 
on  his  back  on  the  terrace  before  the  house,  with 
the  soft  swaying  of  branches  above  him  and  the 
sun-flecks  dancing  back  and  forth  across  his  face, 
knew  better.  It  was  utter  nonsense  to  pretend 
that  only  five  days  had  passed  since  they  had  left 
Cambridge.  He  took  his  pipe  from  the  corner  of  his 
mouth,  gripped  his  hands  anew  under  his  head, 
sighed  luxuriously  and  closed  his  eyes. 

The  morning  world  was  filled  with  sound,  with 
warmth,  with  colour.  From  the  direction  of  the 
stables  came  the  whinnying  of  a  young  colt  in 
paddock;  the  turkeys,  peafowls  and  chickens 
uttered  their  notes  which,  discordant  in  themselves, 
yet  fitted  harmoniously  into  the  great  chorus  as  the 
growling  of  the  bassoon,  the  rasping  of  the  bass-viol 
or  the  shrilling  of  the  piccolo  fits  into  and  lends 
completeness  to  a  full  orchestral  effect.  Birds, 

396 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  397 

thousands  of  them,  it  seemed,  piped  and  trilled, 
chirped  and  bubbled — feathered  flutes  and  'cellos 
and  clarionettes,  tossing  their  melody  into  the  soft 
air  from  swaying  tree-top  or  dropping  it  from  leaf- 
hidden  branch  to  filter  downward  with  the  dripping 
sunbeams.  Bees  were  abroad,  too,  workers  and 
drones,  adding  their  booming  bass  to  the  symphony, 
while  through  all,  the  wind  and  the  leaves,  masters 
of  melody,  supplied  a  low,  murmurous  strain, 
insistent  yet  unobtrusive,  the  theme  of  Nature's 
spring-song. 

And  for  this  performance  what  a  stage-setting 
was  there !  Overhead,  the  bluest  blue  that  ever 
poet  sang  or  artist  strove  to  catch,  and  against  it  a 
few  soft,  fluffy  clouds,  caught  here  and  there  against 
the  heavens  like  clots  of  snowy  foam.  Below,  wide, 
far-stretching  fields  and  hillsides  of  new,  tender 
green  arabesqued  with  winding  brown  roads,  vine- 
decked  fences  and  shimmering  blue  water  laughing 
through  bordering  trees.  Fields  were  no  longer 
bare  expanses  of  warm,  upturned  loam;  they  were 
carpets  of  green  velvet.  Far  and  near  the  trees  were 
in  leaf,  some  fully  arrayed  for  the  summer,  others 
just  trying  on  their  new  garments  with  bashful 
diffidence.  And  what  a  wealth,  what  a  bewildering 


398  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

variety  of  greens  they  presented !  Golden-greens 
and  russet-greens,  blue-greens  and  gray-greens,  the 
green  of  chrysoberyl  and  of  emerald ;  every  hue  and 
tint  and  gradation  of  tint ! 

The  far  hills  were  asleep  in  the  sunlight  under 
slumber-robes  of  palest  mauve.  In  the  direction  of 
Melville  fantastic  spirals  and  swirls  of  smoke  and 
steam  arose  and  melted  into  the  sky.  Here  and 
there  a  farmhouse  peered  out  from  an  embowering 
group  of  trees.  Half  a  mile  away  a  great  blue 
wagon,  drawn  by  six  horses,  jolted  along  the  road; 
and  the  creaking  of  the  great  wheels,  the  voice  of 
the  driver  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bells  came,  mel- 
lowed by  distance,  up  the  hill.  John  lifted  his  head 
lazily  and  watched  it  for  a  moment.  Behind  him 
Elaine  basked,  white-walled  and  pillared,  leaf- 
shadowed,  in  the  sunlight.  Flowers  blossomed  and 
the  air  was  redolent  of  their  perfume. 

Presently  John  raised  himself  on  his  elbow, 
yawned  and  looked  about  him.  In  the  shadow  of 
the  portico  Phillip  was  stretched  fast  asleep  in  a 
steamer  chair,  the  magazine  which  he  had  been 
reading  a  half-hour  ago  sprawling  with  rumpled 
leaves  beside  him  where  it  had  fallen  from  his 
hands.  Maid  dozed  beside  him. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  399 

"Lazy  beggar,"  muttered  John  virtuously. 

He  recovered  his  pipe  from  the  grass,  thereby 
interfering  with  the  interested  examination  of  a 
black  ant,  and  filled  it  slowly,  his  gaze  loitering 
lovingly  across  the  landscape. 

"  It  seems  too  good  to  be  true, "  he  said  to  himself, 
bringing  his  feet  together  tailor-fashion  and  scratch- 
ing a  sputtering  match  on  the  sole  of  one  broad 
shoe.  "I  can't  imagine  a  man  wanting  anything 
better  than  this."  He  lighted  his  pipe  and  sent  a 
column  of  soft  gray  smoke  up  into  the  branches  of 
the  big  oak.  "To  know  that  this  big,  beautiful 
chunk  of  God's  earth  is  yours,  with  its  fields  and 
forests,  hills  and  streams,  yours  to  do  with  as  you 
wish —  He  shook  his  head  eloquently  and  blew 

another  cloud  of  smoke  into  the  sunlight.  "To 
be  master  of  it !  To  plow  its  soil  and  seed  it ;  to  cut 

its  timber  and  build  upon  it To  the  dickens 

with  your  wire  nails  and  your  stuffy  offices;  to  the 
deuce  with  cities  and  clubs  and  white  waistcoats; 
to  the—  Language  again  failed  him.  He 

blew  more  smoke. 

"There's  everything  here  to  hand,"  he  went  on 
again;  "timber  for  planks — there  ought  to  be  a 
sawmill,  though — stone  for  foundations,  gravel 


400  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

for  road-building — a  whole  hill  of  it  ready  for  the 
quarrying — clay  for  bricks.  A  man  could  pretty 
near  get  everything  he  needed  off  the  land ;  he  might 
have  to  send  to  Melville  for  window-glass  and  door- 
knobs. I  wouldn't  be  surprised,  though,  if  there 
was  ochre  somewhere  about ;  a  chap  could  grind  his 
own  paint. 

"There's  the  site  for  the  house  over  yonder — 
'vender's'  appropriately  Southern,  by  the  way— 
on  that  round  hill,"  he  thought,  taking  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth  and  pointing  with  the  stem  as 
though  he  had  a  listener.  "It's  almost  as  high  as 
this ;  there  can't  be  more  than  twenty  feet  difference, 
I  guess — that  is,  I  reckon.  There'd  be  about  three 
acres  of  lawn,  and  the  drive  would  sweep  up  to  it 
in  a  long,  easy  curve.  I'd  have  the  building 
face  the  east,  of  course.  The  stables  and  out- 
buildings would  be  strung  together  about  half- 
way down  the  farther  slope,  toward  the  creek 
bottom.  There'd  be  no  use  trying  to  build  a 
Southern  style  house  so  long  as  Elaine  stood 
here  to  make  it  look  like  thirty  cents.  No;  a 
modified  old  English  would  be  best,  something 
long  and  low  and  hospitable  looking.  Ten  or 
twelve  thousand  ought  to  pay  for  it.  We  mustn't 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  401 

be  extravagant  at  first;  we've  our  living  to 
make." 

He  relighted  his  pipe,  which  had  gone  out,  and  lay 
back,  leaning  on  one  elbow.  Over  at  the  stable 
Will  was  cleaning  a  harness  and  singing  softly  in 
the  sunlight.  A  peafowl  approached  tentatively  and 
viewed  John's  recumbent  and  motionless  form 
with  suspicious  eye,  her  neck  stretched  forth 
ludicrously,  her  expressionless,  unblinking  eyes  like 
beads  of  glass. 

"Oh,  rubber!"  muttered  John.  He  tossed  a 
pebble  at  her  and  she  turned  with  a  disgusted 
squawk  and  hurried  away.  He  went  on  with  his 
dreaming. 

"I'd  get  Markham,  if  I  could;  Phil  would  scarcely 
need  him,  I  should  think.  He  ought  to  go  with  the 
place,  anyhow,  like  any  other  fixture.  He's  a 
genuinely  good  fellow,  and  I  guess,  as  Phil  says, 
he's  the  best  overseer  in  the  county.  I  think,  with 
Markham  here,  I  could  make  it  go  from  the  start. 
Of  course,  there' d  be  somewhat  of  an  outlay  at 
first.  I  can  see  where  twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
could  be  sunk  without  trouble ;  yes,  easily  that.  I 
guess  dad  was  about  right  when  he  put  it  at  fifty 
thousand. 


402  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"There'd  be  plenty  of  hard  work,  and  that's  what 
I  want — work  that'll  make  a  fellow  hungry  and  tired 
and  sleepy.  But  I'd  be  going  ahead  all  the  time; 
every  day's  labour  would  show,  and  the  end  would 
be  worth  toiling  for.  It'd  be  just  the  kind  of  work 
that's  more  than  half  pleasure.  And  there'd  be 
plenty  of  fun,  too.  There's  the  shooting ;  and  there'd 
be  a  few  good  nags  and  some  dogs;  and  I'd  have 
Davy  down  here  often,  of  course;  maybe  he'd  stay 
awake  if  he  was  riding  to  hounds.  And  I'd  lay  out 
a  links  and  teach  the  natives  to  play  golf ;  there's 
old  Colonel  What's-his-name — Brownell,  isn't  it? 
He's  a  regular  old  sport,  and  I'll  bet  he'd  take  hold 
in  great  style.  And  there's  Phil,  and  some  of  those 
chaps  in  town;  also  there's  '  Uncle  Bob' — he'd  come 
any  old  time,  I  guess,  and  stay  as  long  as  there  was 
a  drop  of  liquor  left.  Oh,  I  wouldn't  want  for 
society.  Only  if — if  what  I  want  happens  they  can 
all  go  hang ! 

"If!"  he  sighed  and  shook  his  head.  "So  much 
depends  on  'if  !  I'll  know  someday."  He  took  a 
letter  from  his  pocket  and  looked  at  it,  tapping  it 
approvingly  with  his  knuckles.  It  bore  a  foreign 
stamp  and  postmark  and  had  the  appearance  of  hav- 
ing been  carried  about  in  that  pocket  for  some  time. 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  403 

Presently  he  drew  forth  the  inclosure  and  began  to 
read: 

"DEAR  JOHN: — Yours  of  the  22nd  ult.  at  hand 
and  finds  us  till  at  Cannes.  My  health  continues  to 
improve,  I  am  glad  to  say,  and  your  mother's  illness 
is  passed.  We  are  both  looking  forward  with 
impatience  to  the  return,  which  will  be,  unless 
present  plans  change,  the  3rd  June  from  Havre. 
Now  about  that  Virginia  place.  You  say  you  want 
it  and  so  I  say  go  ahead  and  get  it.  Keep  an  eye 
on  your  option.  I  don't  fear  Corliss.  He's  as 
honest  as  they're  made.  But  I  don't  know  as  much 
about  the  owners.  So  advise  you  to  see  to  an 
extension  about  a  fortnight  before  option  runs  out. 
If  they  won't  extend  you  may  buy  if  you  want  to. 
I've  directed  McCullough  to  honour  your  draft  for 
five  thousand.  That  ought  to  hold  it  until  I 
reach  home. 

"Think  your  decision  not  to  purchase  unless 
owners  want  you  as  a  neighbour  rather  quixotic,  but 
of  course  don't  know  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  matter. 
I'll  trust  you  to  do  what's  sensible,  John.  Be  sure 
and  have  the  title  examined  into  thoroughly  before 
you  buy.  Get  a  local  man  to  do  this;  it's  a  better 
plan.  Offer  him  a  good  sum  to  find  a  flaw.  If  he 


4o4  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

can't  win  his  money  you  may  be  pretty  certain  that 
title's  O.  K.  I  don't  want  to  bank  on  the  success 
of  your  project  yet.  I'd  rather  learn  something 
about  it.  I  know  wire  nails,  John,  but  beef  cattle 
are  out  of  my  books.  Anyhow,  you  can't  stand 
to  lose  a  great  deal,  and  if  the  climate  down  there 
agrees  with  me  I'll  buy  you  out,  maybe,  if  you  can't 
make  a  go  of  it.  I  don't  promise,  understand. 
Anyhow,  it's  your  money  you're  buying  with.  I 
told  you  that  in  the  first  letter.  So  think  of  it  as 
that  and  stretch  it  as  far  as  it  will  go.  Get  a  good 
grip  on  each  end  and  pull  like  blazes. 

"  If  your  house  is  ready  by  winter  we'll  have  a  try 
at  your  wonderful  climate.  Don't  know  about  the 
benefit  to  be  derived  from  riding  horses  over  fences 
after  a  lot  of  yellow  hound-dogs,  but  maybe  I'll  have 
a  try  at  it.  Like  the  idea  of  those  partridges  better. 
When  you  get  to  be  fifty-four  yourself  you'll  under- 
stand why  I'm  not  keen  about  chasing  foxes.  I've 
got  about  three  dozen  more  bones  to  ache  than  you 
have,  I  guess.  Colonel  Thingmabob  must  be  a 
blanked  old  idiot  to  scurry  around  the  country  at 
his  age.  That's  my  opinion  of  the  Colonel,  John. 

"Don't  trouble  about  the  factory.  I'd  rather 
see  you  a  good  cattle  raiser  or  farmer  than  a  poor 


THE   LAND   OF   JOY  405 

mill  man.  And  I've  had  my  doubts  for  two  or  three 
years  past  as  to  your  ever  turning  out  the  latter. 
We'll  be  back  in  plenty  of  time  to  see  you  graduate, 
so  do  things  up  properly  and  don't  be  niggardly 
when  it  comes  to  spreading.  No  cheap  claret-cup 
for  your  old  father,  John ;  remember  that.  Let  me 
hear  how  the  negotiations  progress.  Your  mother 
sends  her  love  and  says  she  will  write  on  Sunday. 
Be  a  good  boy  and  don't  let  business  interfere  with 
study.  Your  aff'te  father, 

"WILLIAM  H.  NORTH." 

John  smiled  and  returned  the  thin,  crinkley 
sheets  to  their  envelope.  "Dad's  a  mighty 
good  sort,"  he  told  himself  warmly.  "  But 
he'll  never  get  a  chance  to  buy  me  out;  not 
in  a  thousand  years.  This  thing  is  going  to  go ! 
If — oh,  hang  that  'if!  I'm  going  to  settle  it 
right  now!" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  sudden  squaring  of 
his  shoulders,  knocked  the  tobacco  from  his  pipe  and 
strode  toward  the  house.  As  he  went  up  the  steps 
Phillip  stirred  and  opened  his  eyes,  blinking  won- 
deringly. 

"I  must  have  been  asleep,  I  reckon,"  he  said 
drowsily. 


4o6  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"I  reckon  you  were,"  laughed  John.  "How  are 
you  feeling?" 

"Like  a  two-year-old."  He  stretched  his  arms 
over  his  head,  yawned,  and  smiled  contentedly  up 
into  the  other's  face.  "This  is  great,  isn't  it?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes;  great!  I  wish  I  was  going  to  stay  for 
more  of  it." 

"  Oh,  you're  not  going  to-morrow,"  Phillip  replied. 

"I  think  I  am,  though."  After  a  pause  he  con- 
tinued: "There's  just  one  thing  that  can  keep  me, 
Phil,  and  I'm  greatly  afraid  that  it  isn't  going  to 
happen." 

"  What  is  it  ?     I'll  make  it  happen  !" 

"You  couldn't,"  laughed  John,  moving  toward 
the  door. 

"But—  Here,  hold  on!  What  is  it?"  cried 
Phillip.  But  John's  footsteps  were  dying  away  in 
the  hall,  and  Phillip  moved  as  though  to  follow, 
hesitated,  yawned  again,  closed  his  eyes  sleepily  and 
presently  dozed  off  once  more.  A  great  bumble- 
bee, lumbering  majestically  about  in  a  new  spring 
suit  of  black  velvet,  spied  the  gay-hued  colour  of 
the  neglected  magazine  and  settled  down  upon  a 
lithographed  spray  of  apple  blossoms  with  an  antici- 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  407 

patory  boom  of  pleasure.  There  followed  a  moment 
of  pregnant  silence.  Then  he  arose,  quivering  with 
amazement  and  disgust,  and  circled  off  into  the 
golden  air,  buzzing  loud  tidings  of  the  deception. 

The  sun  rose  higher  and  higher  and  the  shadow  of 
the  house  crept  inch  by  inch  across  the  portico  floor. 
In  the  trees  the  tireless  birds  sang  on  and  on,  allegro, 
adagio,  scherzo,  over  and  over,  a  paean  of  exquisite 
joy.  At  the  stable  the  colt  lay  asleep  in  the  paddock, 
and  before  the  door,  with  a  half-cleaned  bridle  over 
his  knees,  Will  slumbered  peacefully  in  the  sunshine. 
From  the  cool,  dim  hall  came  eleven  soft  and  silvery 
chimes  from  the  old  rosewood  clock. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

"  I  WANT  to  talk  business,"  said  John.  He  swung 
himself  onto  the  library  table  and  took  one  knee  into 
his  hands.  "I'm  not  keeping  you  from  any  of  those 
household  duties  with  which  you  are  wearing  your 
young  life  away?" 

Margaret  shook  her  head.  "  I  have  nothing  to  do 
until  it  is  time  for  dinner.  Do  you  know  I  fear  I  am 
getting  tired  of  being  a  housekeeper."  She  looked 
about  her  in  mock  alarm.  "  Ever  since  I  came  back 
I  have  been  good  for  nothing.  I  suppose  it  was  that 
month  of  idleness.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
wish  I  were  a  man.  I'd  like  to  travel,  travel  for — 
oh,  for  months  and  months  !" 

"Where?"  he  asked. 

"Anywhere — everywhere  !  Just  go  about  and  see 
things  and  not  care  when  I  arrived  or  where  I 
arrived."  She  laughed  softly.  "There,  that's  my 
first  revolt  against  my  lot.  And  it  shall  be  my  last. 
I'm  glad  mamma  didn't  hear  me.  She'd  be  terribly 
alarmed  and  worried." 

408 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  409 

"Mrs.  Ryerson  is  comfortable  this  morning?" 
asked  John. 

"Yes;  she  feels  quite  bright."  After  a  moment, 
"  Do  you  always  make  mothers  fall  in  love  with  you, 
Mr.  North?"  she  asked. 

"Always,"  he  answered  very  gravely.  "It's  my 
foxy  way.  You  see,  Miss  Ryerson,  most  daughters 
are  dutiful  enough  to  follow  their  mothers'  example." 

"Oh,"  said  Margaret,  "I  see."  She  avoided 
his  glance  and  dropped  into  the  high-backed,  old- 
fashioned  chair  by  the  front  window.  Below  her  a 
bed  of  many-hued  pansies  trembled  and  nodded 
drowsily  in  the  breeze.  The  library  was  dark  and 
quiet.  The  open  windows  admitted  the  fragrant 
air  from  the  garden,  and  the  musty,  bookish 
smell  that  usually  pervaded  the  room  was  gone. 
"And  the  business?"  asked  Margaret.  John 
started. 

"Oh,  yes,  the  business,"  he  said.  "It's  this. 
When  I  was  here  at  Christmas  time  I  told  you  that 
I  wanted  to  try  my  hand  at  making  a  living  down 
here  in  Virginia.  You  weren't  very  encouraging, 
if  you  remember,  but — well,  as  I  said  once  before, 
I  was  born  hopeful.  And  so  I  still  want  to  try  it. 
You  told  me  then  that  you  would  be  glad  to  have 


410  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

me  for  a  neighbour — and  friend.  Have  you  changed 
your  mind?" 

"No,"  answered  Margaret.  "But  do  you  mean 
that  you  are  thinking  of  settling  around  here  some- 
where?" 

"That's  my  idea.  In  fact,  I  am  thinking  of  buying 
from  you." 

"Oh!"   Margaret's  eyes  grew  wide.     "But " 

"The  thing  sounds  rather  brutal,  I  know," 
he  went  on,  "but  if  Elaine  must  be  sold — 
and,  as  far  as  I've  heard,  it's  still  on  the  market 
— it  occurs  to  me  that  possibly  you'd  just  as  lief 
I  would  have  it  as  the  next  one.  Am  I  right,  Miss 
Ryerson?" 

"Yes;  I'd  far  rather  it  went  to  you.  Only,  I 
fear — I  don't  think  I  told  you,  did  I,  that  some  one 
holds  an  option  on  it?" 

John  shook  his  head,  but  didn't  look  worried. 

"Of  course,  they  may  not  buy,"  she  continued, 
"but  Mr.  Corliss  seems  quite  certain  that  they  will. 
Oh,  I'm  so  sorry !  I  wish  it  was  going  to  be  you, 
Mr.  North.  I — we  all — -would  so  much  rather  it 
went  to  a  friend,  you  see." 

"But  perhaps  the  parties  won't  buy,"  said  John 
cheerfully.  "Or  maybe  they'd  be  willing  to  sell  to 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  41 1 

me  at  an  advance.  Corliss  didn't  say  who — er — 
who  they  are?" 

"No,  he  didn't.  But  I  reckon  they're  North- 
erners." There  was  a  trace  of  displeasure  in  her 
voice,  and  John  smiled. 

"Well,  then,  if  I  should  come  to  you  and  tell  you 
that  I  was  ready  to  buy  the  place,  fifteen  hundred 
acres,  without  the  home  farm  here,  you'd  sell  to 
me  ?  If  the  other  people  were  out  of  it,  I  mean  ? " 

"Yes;  gladly." 

"  Thank  you.  I  fancy  I  shall  be  around  some  day 
with  that  announcement,  "  he  said  smilingly. 

She  looked  across  at  him  speculatively. 

"I've  changed  my  mind  about  you,"  she  said 
finally. 

"  As  to —  For  an  instant  he  dared  hope. 

"As  to  your  not  making  a  success  of  it.  I  think 
you  could." 

"Why?  What  makes  you  think  so?"  he  asked. 
She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  know ;   I  just  think  so. " 

"Well,  I  hope  you're  right.  For  I  mean  to  have 
the  place  if  I  can.  I'm  leaving  to-morrow,  and  I 
shall  see  Corliss  and  find  out  about  it  at  once. " 

"Must  you  go  to-morrow?"  she  asked,  her  eyes 


4I2 

on  the  pansies.  "Couldn't"  you  telegraph  just  as 
well?" 

"Oh,  I  was  going  anyhow,  you  know,"  he  answered 
lightly.  "I've  stayed  long  enough — longer,  in  fact, 
than  I  agreed  to — with  myself,  I  mean,"  he  added, 
in  response  to  her  look  of  surprise.  There  was  a 
moment  of  silence.  Then  he  went  on  with  a  trace 
of  awkwardness : 

"I  told  Phil  awhile  ago  that  there  was  only  one 
thing  that  could  make  me  disregard  the  decencies 
and  stay  on  here  longer." 

She  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

"One  thing?" 

"Yes." 

"Why,  what  is  that?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't  tell  you.  I  thought  that 
maybe  you'd  be  able  to  guess." 

"Oh,"  she  murmured,  almost  under  her  breath. 
Her  face  grew  rosy  as  an  understanding  of  his  mean- 
ing came  to  her  and  she  turned  her  eyes  again  to  the 
pansies. 

"But  I  also  told  him,"  John  continued  with  an 
attempt  at  nonchalance,  wishing  to  spare  her  embar- 
rassment, "that  that  one  thing  was  not  at  all  likely 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  413 

to  happen.  So — so  I'm  not  disappointed,  you  see, 
Miss  Ryerson." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.     Then : 

"But  it  might."  As  soon  as  the  words  were 
uttered  she  regretted  them  and  arose  from  her  chair 
in  a  sudden  panic.  There  was  no  reply.  She 
wondered  what  he  was  thinking,  what  his  face  said. 
The  stillness  grew  and  grew.  She  longed  intensely 
to  look  around,  yet  could  not  have  done  so  had 
life  itself  depended  upon  it.  Then,  when  she  had 
begun  to  think  he  was  no  longer  there — 

"You  mean —  —  ?"  he  asked  in  low  tones  that, 
she  thought,  trembled  a  little. 

She  stared  hard  at  the  fluttering  blossoms  beneath 
the  casement  and  moistened  her  lips. 

"Why,  I  mean  that  if  you  didn't  expect  it  to 
happen,  it — it  might,  mightn't  it?"  She  gave  a 
little  nervous  laugh.  "You  know  they  say  it's  the 
unexpected  that  always  happens." 

"Oh  .  .  .  Yes  ...  I  see."  His  tone 
spoke  eloquently  of  disappointment.  She  was 
sorry  and — yes,  disappointed,  too.  She  turned 
away  from  the  window  after  a  moment  and  was 
very  glad  that  the  room  was  so  dim;  her  cheeks 
were  afire. 


4i4  THE   LAND   OF  JOY 

"I  must  go  now  and  see  about  dinner,"  she  said 
evenly. 

"Well —  But  he  got  no  further,  nor  did  she 

move  toward  the  door.  Instead: 

"You  really  must  leave  to-morrow?"  she  asked 
politely. 

"Yes;  I  must,  really.  You  see — the  unexpected 
isn't  going  to  happen,  after  all."  He  smiled  across 
at  her. 

"But — perhaps  the  unexpected  is  too — too  impos- 
sible I" 

"Yes;  I  fear  it  is,"  he  answered  dejectedly. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that !"  she  cried,  and 
then  stopped  in  a  sudden  tumult  of  embarrass- 
ment. 

"Thank  you;  but  I  fear  it's  true,  just  the  same. 
The  unexpected  is  one  of  those  wonderful  things 
that  are  too  good  to  happen — except  in  books." 
He  swung  himself  off  the  table,  still  smiling.  "But 
I'm  keeping  you?" 

"No."  She  shook  her  head  almost  impatiently 
and  stood  there  interlacing  her  slim  fingers  in 
the  way  he  knew  so  well.  Suddenly  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  his  and  asked  abruptly: 

"Do    you    still   remember  the  promise  you — the 


THE   LAND   OF  JOY  415 

promise  I  made  you?"  she  asked.  The  eyes  looked 
large  and  fearful  and  her  face  was  pale. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  wonderingly. 

"And  would  you  mind  repeating  it  ?" 

"You  promised  that  if  you  ever  grew  to — care 
for  me  you  would  tell  me,"  he  responded. 

"Yes." 

"Well?"  he  asked.     "And  now?" 

'  'And  now  I — I ' '  She  paused  and  low  ered  her 

eyes. 

"I  see,"  he  said  gravely.  "You  want  me  to 
absolve  you  from  it?  I  know;  it  was  an  absurd 
thing  to  ask  of  you.  I  had  no  business  doing  it. 
I  understand  that  now,  Margaret.  That  is  what 
you  are  trying  to  tell  me,  isn't  it  ?" 

"No,"  she  said  softly. 

"You — you  don't  want  me  to  let  you  off?"  he 
cried  amazedly,  gladly.  She  shook  her  head  silently. 

"And — and  if  the  time  ever  should  come,  Margaret, 
you  will  tell  me  ?  You  still  promise  that  ?" 

"Yes."  The  reply  was  low,  scarce  a  whisper,  but 
he  heard  it.  A  great  wondering  delight  swayed 
him.  He  moved  impulsively  toward  her,  but 
stopped  doubtfully. 

Through  the  open  windows,  into  the  dim,  silent 


4i6  THE   LAND   OF   JOY 

room,  floated  the  melody  of  spring  and  of  love ;  the 
exquisite  outpourings  of  a  hundred  gladsome  birds, 
the  humming  of  a  myriad  insects,  the  gentle  lisping 
of  the  soft  wind  amidst  the  branches.  And  with  it 
came  the  heart-stirring  fragrance  of  opening  buds 
and  swaying  blossoms,  the  wonderful  incense  of 
spring  which  is  also  the  incense  of  love. 

Margaret  raised  her  head  slowly  until  her  eyes, 
deep  and  glowing,  met  John's.  They  were  no  longer 
fearful;  they  were  glorious. 

"Ah,  can't  you  see?"  she  whispered  pleadingly. 

A  flame  of  colour  swept  into  her  face  and  she 
laughed  softly — a  laugh  that  thrilled  him  through 
and  through.  The  interlaced  fingers  parted  and 
she  threw  her  arms  wide  open  in  a  sudden  gesture 
of  utter  surrender. 

"Can't  you-— won't  you  understand  that  I'm — 
I'm  trying  to  tell  you — now?" 

THE    END 


114096 7 


ID 
OFJOY 


BARB 


